‘You were right, miss. Tell me a story—with apple-blossoms in it—about people who are happy. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter. 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 sent me home. We have so much to be thankful for. ’ ‘What young lady?’ demanded a voice from the back of the hall. She sat herself upon the bed.
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