Finally she fell into reflection. There were two of them. A shaft of searing heat plunged downward. "Enough," said Jack, recovering his composure. Now," he added, as his commands were reluctantly obeyed, "help me on with them. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. "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. “Ungracious little beast, I call her.
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