" "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. Don’t you think? Tum, tay, tum, tay. You can give up thinking and leave all the brain work to her. Gerald sympathised with his friend’s irritation.
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