Perhaps Ramage was the more astonished. "Halloa, widow!" shouted a rough voice from below, "where the devil are you?" Mrs. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. ” Anna nodded and turned again to Courtlaw. "By George!" he exclaimed. He had now reached the adjoining house, and, scaling the roof, approached another building, which seemed to be, at least, one story loftier than its neighbours. Trodger laid down their muskets and turned on them. " "Forgive you!" echoed his mother, with a look radiant with delight. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. You'll do. He was extremely loyal to you. . We have him as safe as a linnet in a cage; and could wring his neck round as easily.
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