"Yes—what do you mean, Ma'am?" added Jack, staggering after her. McClintock wrote me about you; but all I needed was the sight of your face as it was a moment gone. "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. Remember that. I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you. ’ Gerald stood back, and watched her cross the room to the closed French doors.
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