” There was genuine interest in her eyes now. Why open my mouth if there might not be a need for it when all’s said?’ Melusine acknowledged the logic of this. 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. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him.
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