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. Her mind had been and was full of the thought of Capes, a huge generalized Capes-lover. Diane replied, “Is there something wrong with that, Michelle? This is my house too, you know. Forgive me if a certain warmth creeps into my words! The Park is green and gray to-day, but I am glowing pink and gold.
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