"Spare me!" he groaned, looking upwards. "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. Traci was the most grateful, because he stopped his sexual advances. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft.
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