All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. ” “I am staying,” she answered coolly, “at a small boarding-house near Russell Square. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. She’s as stubborn as the proverbial mule, and—’ with a sigh that felt wrenched out of him ‘—utterly captivating. If I had been quite quiet and white and dignified, wouldn’t it have been different? Would he have dared?. ‘Help yourself, Hilary. "Very well, Mr.
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