About many of these houses hung a mysterious taint as of something weakly and commonly and dustily evil; the women who negotiated the rooms looked out through a friendly manner as though it was a mask, with hard, defiant eyes. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. "And so you've given up all hope of escaping, eh, Jack?" remarked Hogarth. Business exists for such interruptions. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. If he had eaten food, this wouldn't have happened. Looking for something, or someone, probably.
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