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 am not of the canaille, but a bourgeois. "I'll be his evil genius!" vociferated Jonathan, who seemed to enjoy her torture. But out of a belated regard for her father she wrote the surname of some one else. He has had the whole country searched; but hitherto without success.
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