If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. " "All right, then. . "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. Amongst others, a person near the door, roused by the shriek, observed a man make his exit with the utmost precipitation.
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