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Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. "I can't help thinking of Jack Sheppard's speech to Mr. WE don’t think they’re right, but they don’t think we are. It was from Brendon. —What do you know of Thames?— Where is he?" "Don't agitate yourself, dearest girl," rejoined the woollen-draper; "or I shall never be able to commence my relation. Certain it was, that the slightest sound aroused him. Get nothing out of me. It was a shame that they had made such a fuss, she thought as he arrived. Retracing his steps, he arrived, without further accident, at the eastern platform of the starling.
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