"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 remembered the doctor's warning that the real battle would begin when the patient recovered consciousness. One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace.
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