Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. They pressed more insistently, forcing her lips open. "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. “And then?” said Ann Veronica. . "Do you take me for a thiefcatcher, like Jonathan Wild, that you dare to affront me by such a proposal?" "No offence, Sir," rejoined the jailer, humbly. They were just nice. ’ With care, she gave it an English pronunciation.
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