To return was impossible,—to raise himself certain destruction. "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. \"So John, are you two lovebirds going to the Junior Prom or what?\" He paused, smirking. "Choose, Jack.
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