The pair then descended Saffron-hill, threaded Field-lane, and, entering Holborn, passed over the little bridge which then crossed the muddy waters of Fleet-ditch, mounted Snow-hill, and soon drew in the bridle before Jonathan Wild's door. If I’m late again I’ll have to serve another detention!” She excused herself, hoping it was not too obvious she was running away. "Those tears will do you good. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence.
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