” “Your priestess,” whispered Ann Veronica, softly. "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 do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. The ledge, along which he crawled, was about a foot wide.
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