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Updated: July 21, 2025
She was dangerously sweet, and even went into Gay's room, where he was donning his gray-velvet studio blouse for the morning's labours. She told him she was quite sure of securing a fairly good-sized order for some window shades. Gay did not think it necessary to answer. He did not glance at her; instead he yawned and sprinkled toilet water profusely on his pink lawn handkerchief.
There was even a pathetic little wardrobe trunk they had bought for $28.75 in New York, and Trudy had painstakingly soaked off old European hotel labels she had found on one of Gay's father's satchels and repasted them on the trunk to give the impression of travel and money. The kitchen was nothing but a dark hole with a rusty range and nondescript pots and pans.
A string of partridges and several rabbits hung from his shoulder, and at his heels a pack of fox-hounds followed with muzzles held close to the moist ground. For a minute Gay's angry astonishment left him rooted to the spot.
I've seen you have a set-to in Figg's boxing shed. That girl's in danger. Sally's bent on mischief. There's murder in her eyes. Come with me." Leveridge nodded and followed his friend out of the room. Gay's action was none too prompt.
Two or three times a week for over a month Lavinia went to Gay's lodgings and rehearsed the songs she did not know and those also with which she was already acquainted. The words Gay gave her to sing were not those to which she was accustomed and she found the change confusing.
Kesiah, in an ugly grey dressing-gown, tied at the waist with a black cord, was drying Mrs. Gay's sheets before the radiator. At Molly's entrance, she turned, and said warningly, "Patsey is rubbing Angela after her bath. What was that about Old Church, dear?" "Jonathan has promised to take me down there to-morrow." "To spend the day? Well, I suppose we may trust you with him."
If I never did an honest day's work for Steve O'Valley I worked like a steam engine learning how to be a real lady, the sort Gay tried to marry but couldn't!" "As if you weren't a little lady at all times," Mrs. Faithful added. "Of course we are stony broke but Gay's brother-in-law just had to loan us some money in order to have us go. They gave us fifty dollars for a wedding present.
I quoted in this respect, however, not from "The Beggar's Opera" but from the song as sung by Silenus in Gay's Eclogues. One of these songs I have always longed to hear or to read, owing to the fascination of its title "The grass now grows where Troy town stood." After I went to The Spectator the newspaper world widened in my view.
It was continued weekly till October 12th, five numbers appearing, all of which were, with one exception, perhaps, written by Addison, so that Gay's conjecture if Bickerstaff may be extended to include Addison was correct. The Medley, to which Gay next passes, was another Whig organ. The first number appeared on August 5th, 1710, and it was continued weekly till August 6th, 1711.
Self indulgence was Gay's failing as all his friends knew. "Well well," rejoined Gay somewhat embarrassed. "Be it so, I conduct the girl hither have I your permission, Mr. Pope?" "With all my heart provided she's worth looking at." "I know nothing of her looks. Quick, Stephen, your master and these gentlemen are impatient."
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