Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. He's as savage and suspicious as the devil himself. He learnt that his sister was privately married—the name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained—and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in the Borough, where she had given birth to a son. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. She covered herself with her arms. . She felt like a dried-up old woman. "In with him!" "Ay—ay, yer hon'r," cried the foremost chairman, lending a helping hand. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. The young officer sat in front, his hat perfectly straight.
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