’ ‘What matters it?’ cried Melusine impatiently. "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. Ladies with weapon’s on ’em. ’ Pottiswick sucked at his teeth through the gaps. “I think that I will leave this letter for him,” she said.
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