“But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. ‘I believe that. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. It shall never be said that I raised my arm willingly against a woman. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. " Jonathan made no answer, but motioned the partners to take him away. Still, I'm glad she didn't accept my invitation to join us. "Hold!" interposed Thames, "he can do no more mischief. Then a light seemed to break in upon him. Let her see what she could make here.
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