Perhaps at the first blush—it strikes you as odd. He walked on for an hour longer, till he could scarcely drag one leg after another. 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. He could not know about the Remenham connection, could he? No one knew but her father and Martha. “We are clerks in the same bank. Why not? Imagine I’ve had a fit of hysteria—and that I’ve come round.
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