The significance of the kiss was still obscure to her, though she had frequently encountered the word and act in the Old and New Testaments and latterly in novels. Anna was not “Alcide” of the “Ambassador’s,” whose subtly demure smile and piquant glances had called him to her side from the moment of their first meeting. To these she added the wine and spirits directed, and when all was arranged looked inquisitively at her master. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. “No, I mean that we should assemble ourselves in case your parents arrive home. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. E. Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. "I've done nothing to offend you," persisted Jack. All at once she became aware of sounds outside.
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