” “Not exactly. Mrs. ‘Still—here? Wasting your—time. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. As soon as they had got out, the vehicle was drawn up at the back of a tree near the cage. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. You didn’t see me fall into a swoon when you cursed just now, did you?’ ‘I’m beginning to doubt if anything less than a sledgehammer would send you into a swoon,’ Gerald retorted.
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