“Young lady! Are you sure you’re of legal age to be smoking those cigarettes?” “No, I’m not of legal age. ” She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to the tall, gloomy lodging-house. So he resolved to try another tack. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. 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. Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks. There was every indication that she fled the island in company with a dissolute rogue.
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