“Well, I don’t want you to talk to him,” he said, very firmly. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. ” She side-stepped into his living room from behind a square white column. Ann Veronica decided that “hoydenish ragger” was the only phrase to express her. 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 sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. ” “Got a photograph of him or anything?” said Ann Veronica, after kissing her mother.
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