Oh, wait!’ She seized Jack’s arm as he was about to go out of the room. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. "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. "If you loiter in this way, old Wood will catch us. But the besetting evil of the place, and that which drew down the severest censures of the writers above-mentioned, was that this spot,—which of all others should have been most free from such intrusion—was made a public exhibition. She made an abrupt personal appeal. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him.
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