While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts. . Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. Everything. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. “Don’t fence with me,” Anna cried fiercely. Taking advantage of his embarrassed position, Jonathan and his assistant rushed upon him, and disarmed him. He mumbled an apology and then stopped short.
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