He could not do any more, could he ?" Lavinia quickly added seeing disappointment written in the young dramatist's face.
"No, indeed.

But did he give hopes that he would speak to Mr.Rich at the Duke's Theatre or to Mr.Cibber at Drury Lane ?" "I don't think he did.

I can't remember.

He told me he was himself writing a play--an opera--but he was not sanguine he should get it performed." "An opera?
It is a waste of time.

Operas are written by foreigners and the music and the singers are foreign too.