It slid off flimsily. You’ve got to take what you can get. 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 was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears.
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