I am not angry with you, but with this—this—’ ‘Idiot? Imbecile?’ offered Gerald in a helpful tone. \"May I come in?\" His bravado was increasing. His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her. "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. "What for?" demanded Wood. Let us part in peace. Figg?" asked Gay.
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