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"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 heard the television blaring away. “Who are you?” She asked innocently. And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. “I cannot part with you. I have broken from prison, and am come to save you. But she was not sure just how to reach it.
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