His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. She had, poor inexperienced fool, given herself away. \" \"Oh, that is pretty. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. ” “But I’m quite equal to taking care of myself, aunt. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon.
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