"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. ’ Kimble’s eyes widened. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away.
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