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“I didn’t ask you to get married. "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. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. "Go on first with the light," he said. ” But she could not talk freely about love, she found, for all that manumission. Get you gone.
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