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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. “I’m just off, aunt,” said Ann Veronica. “And by what right do you do anything of the sort?” “No right at all,” he admitted. And don’t tell me what you’ve been up to, dashing off to Remenham House with that Kimble lad, and Lord knows what besides, because I don’t want to know. "Stop thief!" roared Jonathan. ’ Roding blinked. The boss says to me: 'Higg, here's a guy we want back.
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