" "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. “I’m not a good woman. You never saw him before yesterday. It consisted of a close jerkin of brown frieze, ornamented with a triple row of brass buttons; loose Dutch slops, made very wide in the seat and very tight at the knees; red stockings with black clocks, and a fur cap. I wonder if I should have locked you up if I’d been your father. She was chic, distinguished, unusual. He and his friends (he had at least two per class, even in Trigonometry) would make their exits as quickly as possible. ’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you.
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