Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. ” The irrepressible smile curved Anna’s lips. "You hesitate—you are deceiving me. She was still good at following orders. “I am so sorry. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently. The thought of beauty became an obsession. "Hush!" she said, putting her lean fingers to her lips. The necessity of defending herself and assuming a confident and secure tone did much to dispell the sense of being exposed and indefensible in a huge dingy world that abounded in sinister possibilities. "I'm almost afraid to state it," faltered the other; "but, may I ask whether Mr.
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