” Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door. 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. . ‘Oh, you may come to me on any mission you like,’ uttered Mrs Sindlesham roguishly.
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