"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 was perfectly aware that the boy had gotten some sort of bug in his craw over her despite her sloppy, strange appearance. "I've done with you. " She laughed; and it was pleasant laughter in his ears. “I do not like to seem inhospitable, Anna,” she said hesitatingly.
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