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“Really?” “Would not let it go. " She rose. "Perhaps he means well. 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. She never touched the manuscript with pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them where he might easily find them. The area in front of the jail was completely filled.
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