1. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. The dog-fox cannot be far off, since the cub is found. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. Wood, at the top of her voice. Had he been trying to get her attention before that day, or did he simply want his silly pencil returned? \"I'm John. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales.
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