CHAPTER XXIV
Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. ‘That is what she wants, is it?’
‘Do you blame her?’ he said stiffly. “Anna, you are the dearest, bravest sister in the world,” she cried. "
"Poor Jack!" sighed Thames. "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. She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life and the changing
mysteries of the sea. "And had you been the worst scoundrel unhung, I'd have seen to it that you had
the same care, the same chance. I never want you to be ashamed of me. Do you hear?"
"I do, Sir," replied Austin respectfully. "
"Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you.
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