He proceeded to the deck, where Ruth and McClintock were waiting for him by the ladder. "Let him remain," interposed Trenchard. "But are you really there?" "No, I'm here," answered Jack, leaping down. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. The latch had not fully caught. It’s the sort of way a woman always does gloss over her ethical positions. Imbecile. . 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.
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