" "By Heaven!" cried Kneebone, with increasing fervour, "it is true—as true as my affection for you. “You are beautiful, Lucy. It wasn’t so much women as Woman that engaged his mind. At last in a street near the Hampstead Road she hit upon a room that had an exceptional quality of space and order, and a tall woman with a kindly face to show it. Sebastian sat smirking in amusement. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother.
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