"I was about to add," continued Gay, "that my opera shall have no music except the good old ballad tunes. It vosh plain he vent dat vay. Wood wound it up by a description of the drenching he had undergone at the Mint pump, the other could hold out no longer, but, leaning back in his chair, gave free scope to his merriment. She was very pale, but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” as he had first known her.
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