Polly had not altered towards him--dear, affectionate girl that she was I He would act honourably; she should have the chance of reconsidering her position; but-- A damsel, sparingly clad, was singing in the serio-comic vein, with a dance after each stanza.

As he sipped his whisky, and watched and listened, Gammon felt his heart glow within him.

The melody was lulling; it had a refrain of delicious sentiment.

The listener's eyes grew moist; there rose a lump in his throat.

Dear Polly! Lovely Polly! Would he not cherish her to the day of his death?
How could he have fancied that he loved anyone else?
Darling Polly! When the singer withdrew he clapped violently, and thereupon called for another Scotch hot, with lemon.
As a matter of course a friend soon discovered him, a man who declared himself in a whisper "stonebroke," and said, after a glass of the usual beverage, that if the truth must be told he had looked in here this evening to save himself from the torments of despair.