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"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. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. Our quarrel's quite over. "Let the gentleman take his own course," said Jonathan, mildly. " "What did I forget?" "The breathless days and the faded, pitiless sky. He took up his hat and went. "Put about, waterman, for God's sake!" cried Wood, whose humanity got the better of every personal consideration; "some one is overboard. ” β€œIt’s gone.

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