’ ‘But it was not your fault,’ protested Gosse, shocked. He went on with his song, accompanying it with the most ridiculous grimaces: "When years were gone by, she began to rue Her love for the gentleman, (meaning you!) 'I slighted the journeyman fond,' quoth she, 'But where is my gallant of high degree? Where! where! Oh! where is my gallant of high degree?' Ho! ho! ho!" "What are you doing here!" demanded Thames. “Who are you?” She asked innocently. I swore to hang you two years ago, but I deferred my purpose. ” “Is it necessary to send for the police?” Anna asked. "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 flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless.
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