The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. He claimed me for his wife, and showed to every one a marriage certificate. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. ’ Reminiscence made him smile. That’s the fact of the matter. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. “We have to get in, I think,” said a nice little old lady in a bonnet to Ann Veronica, speaking with a voice that quavered a little.
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