"She was mine before you ever saw her. Perhaps she was. "What did the old fellow judge from, eh, Joan?" asked he. ’ His features relaxed again and he grinned. Suddenly she became aware of the fact that he had brought no lunch. How to hold her, how to keep her at his side; this was the problem with which he struggled. “I am bored,” she said abruptly. It is dull—deadly dull. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! II.
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