It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. "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. Don’t stand gawping, man.
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