I might have known it. 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 the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. "I have something further to tell you," pursued Winifred. When they started getting on each other’s nerves, she blamed herself at first. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. ‘She won’t like it,’ prophesied the captain gloomily. “It’s either now or never,” she said to herself.
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