“But your sister,” he said. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. Lose not a moment, Hobson. "My child!" he groaned faintly. Just what it means. There is a tragedy to come. “Please come home. "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. “I will make it possible,” he cried.
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