He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. "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. And Leonardo told me never to trust any man. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. He will have it that I’ve taken leave of my senses.
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