Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions. "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. To return was impossible,—to raise himself certain destruction. He made a movement toward her, and then recalled the circumstances of their last conversation in that study. She stood there limply and did not act to resist him. The concourse extended along Giltspur Street as far as Smithfield. . Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough.
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