’ ‘Hang it, Melusine!’ Losing patience, Gerald seized her by the arms. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. " "So she may," returned Jack, brightening up; "it's a good idea. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales.
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