"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. "I can readily see," he said, "why you'll always be as poor as a church mouse. She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards. For a moment she too had started and faltered in her exit from the room. “I don’t know. Some doting parent had taught him well. He turned back at once. "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. ’ She glared at Hilary.
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