Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. "My God! will you see your child strangled before your eyes, and not so much as scream for help?" said Wood, staring at the widow with a look of surprise and horror. It was dry, as if she had powdered it. Her father’s peculiar stiffness of soul presented itself now as something altogether left out of the calculations upon which her plans were based, and, in particular, she had not anticipated the difficulty she would find in borrowing the forty pounds she needed for Ramage. I thought that Hill was dead, but I was frightened, and I wanted to get away from Paris. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s.
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