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Updated: September 21, 2025
Simmons speeding down upon him in hot pursuit, kindled by Gay's disappearance into an appreciation of her charms. The tears stood in his eyes as Gay clambered out of the basket, and danced with impatience, exclaiming, "Gay wants to yide now! yide now! yide now!"
Faithful's funeral was the day that Beatrice O'Valley had arranged to introduce Trudy Vondeplosshe to her bridge club, the members of which were keen to see Gay's wife in order to prove whether or not Bea's report concerning her was correct that she was a clever young person quite capable of taking care of both her own and Gay's futures. Beatrice particularly looked forward to the afternoon.
The inscription on Gay's tombstone is, if not actually immoral, yet futile and weak; though he is said to have written it himself: "Life is a jest, and all things shew it, 'I thought so once but now I know it." Our Handel has also a monument here, where he is represented as large as life.
Kitty was so proud of her she could not help expressing her pleasure aloud, much to Gay's embarrassment. To hide her confusion, she started a merry jig tune, so rollicking and irresistible that hands and feet all through the rooms began to pat the time. Keith seized his Aunt Allison around the waist and waltzed her out into the floor. "Come on, everybody!" he cried.
"It would be just about Gay's luck to run into a watering-cart or lean up against a freshly painted door, in that pretty pongee suit," she thought, watching them out of sight. But for once Gay's lucky star was in the ascendant. The trip to the library left her without spot or wrinkle, and as she followed Miss Chilton into the restaurant she could not help smiling at her reflection in the mirror.
Everything will be serene once more. As for Gay's future I suppose he is likely to bring home anything from a mousetrap to a diamond tiara. I don't pretend to understand his ways." "Of course it isn't like Mrs. O'Valley's wedding," her mother resumed, with a resonant sniffle. "You have been so used to hearing about her ways that poor little Trudy seems cheap.
With Allison to play her accompaniments, she chose her sweetest pieces, and threw her whole soul into the rendering of them. She was so grateful to these dear people who had taken her in like one of themselves, and given her such a happy, happy holiday-time that she did her best, and Gay's best on the violin was a treat even to the musical critics in the company.
She's a staunch little soul I've a tremendous admiration for her but there has never been the slightest sentiment between us, you understand." "Yes, I understand," replied Abel, and fell silent. There was a certain magnanimity, he recognized, in Gay's effort to put things right even while he must have preferred in his heart to have them remain in the wrong.
Embarrassment and stifled joy had brought a rosier color to her cheek; Gay's vandal hand had ruffled the smoothness of her sandy locks, so that a few stray hairs were absolutely curling with amazement that they had escaped from their sleek bondage; in a word, Samantha Ann Ripley was lovely and lovable!
Pope gesticulated with thin hands and seemed upon the verge of eloquence. Then he spoke unanswerably. "But I love her," he said. John Gay's reply was a subdued whistle. He, in common with the other guests of Lord Harcourt, at Nuneham Courtney, had wondered what would be the outcome of Mr. Alexander Pope's intimacy with Sarah Drew.
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