Kneebone, I came hither as your guest. There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. Sydney sprang up. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. "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.
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