‘You are, I think, a gentleman, no?’ Gerald bowed. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. ‘You will like to marry me, yes?’ she pursued. I want a walk. But "fine" is the word. "Stay, dear Thames!—stay!" cried the little girl. She kept her face downcast. Her aunt went off at a tangent. 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. She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure.
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