She felt her heartbeat accelerate until it was pounding her chest. The cheating of the boys in the stores ceased. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. 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. Let me run you for six months. She confided in me yesterday.
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