It was there in the breast pocket, stiff and legal looking. 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. The doors of several of the wards were thrown open for these parties, and as Jack passed, he could not help glancing at the wretched inmates. ‘Damnation! Too late.
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