Hogarth," replied Gay. ‘But you are idiot. I do not know anything of him since I have fourteen years, and that he sent me to Blaye to be a nun. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. ” “Let me tell you the reason you are here.
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