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. " "It is not Jack's voice," rejoined Mrs. " "The Black Lion!" echoed Terence. “Now I’ll have what I want from you, wife. "Where are the packets committed to your charge by Sir Rowland Trenchard?" "The packets!" exclaimed Kneebone, in alarm. “You seem to have cultivated quite a jaunty appearance, and you certainly look years younger.
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