"Heard of your escapes. “Yes. ” Lucy begged. “I get that a lot. "Do you call neglecting your work, and singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air.
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