"Safe inside," replied the chairman, wiping the heat from his brow; "we've run all the way. “You’re wanted for questioning, miss. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. Then she came a few steps to meet him. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. Capes was irritatingly judicial in the matter, neither absurdly against, in which case one might have smashed him, or hopelessly undecided, but tepidly sceptical.
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