And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. 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 wanted his attention, but so did everyone else. Section 3.
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