Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. I have an engagement with a theatrical agent—I believe for the ‘Unusual’. But I'll not believe it of you. Look out, it’s coming. ” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. She put out her hands to avoid his embrace. . ” “He is certainly alive,” Anna declared.
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