‘You’re speaking the truth. When she saw Ann Veronica she stood for a moment as if entranced, and then advanced with outstretched hands. If this is the young lady, she can perhaps calm him. “Ah, Vee,” he said, “that’s better! and kissed her back rather clumsily. 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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