At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. To many in that crowded solitude it came as an extraordinary relief. One might suppose him turning up; he knew a lot of clever people, and some of them might belong to the class. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. ” He stood up rather close to her and looked into her eyes. And then came the vile experience of being forced and borne along the street to the police-station. I'll tell you what. ‘You will please to tell this—this idiot to release me. " "Who cares if we do?" retorted Sheppard, with a look of defiance.
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