I wanted the magic of love. Cheveney strolled up, a pipe in his mouth. ToC Nearly nine years after the events last recorded, and about the middle of May, 1724, a young man of remarkably prepossessing appearance took his way, one afternoon, along Wych Street; and, from the curiosity with which he regarded the houses on the left of the road, seemed to be in search of some particular habitation. Lucy slipped upstairs silently. Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend.
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