At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. “He ran some Austrian fellow off. 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 drank. My son is going to build a spaceship to Mars someday right in this room. . Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. " "And were I in yours," rejoined the woollen-draper, "I should be doubly apprehensive, because he's a professed friend.
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