Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. I go back about once a year. She had begun alone. He daren't quarrel with me: and if he does, let him look to himself. " She pursed her lips and uttered a whistle, piercingly shrill and high; and instantly she became the object of intense astonishment on the part of the other diners. It ought not to be much. Anna, who had sung the first verse of her song, looked around the house, a little surprised at the absence of the applause which had never yet failed her. " "And that's true," rejoined Mrs. She wouldn't be able to pass by anywhere without folks turning their heads.
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