‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. Mr. " "Keep it," said Trenchard, haughtily. "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 flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black.
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