“Would you wait for me?” Manning was silent for a space. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. Neither would she allow herself to feel guilty nor would she allow him to find a way into the house. And we’re going to fight that old world down there. They trudged and talked, and Manning struggled, as he said, to “get the hang of it all. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. "However, some one must look after the jail; and they're all gone but me. By degrees, his fears vanished, and hearing nothing, he grew calmer. Wood fancied he recognised.
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