” “Oh my goodness. Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. "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. New customs have prevailed over the old. ” “You seem to have said just what had to be said. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her.
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