. . " "Poor soul!" ejaculated her son. He smiled. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. “What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly. “In Paris. How did you get into this house?’ He shrugged. “But, forgive me, you are tired. Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild. For this he was prepared; but he was not prepared for the almost insurmountable obstacles which it presented.
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