“He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. He kissed her fingers and grinned. But it is not entirely without hope, for perhaps they may find some succour with Charvill. Guns were impossible. White’s boarding-house in Russell Square. 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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