Lucy stood in front of the piano. "No offence, I hope, my dear Mrs. Wood entered the room, followed by Thames. “You’ll do no such thing, Sheila. 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.
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