. "Or the street," returned Jack: "mind my words, the prison's not built that can keep me. We were to live in some wretched London suburb. 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. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned. Thankfully only the children were home, so there was no one to take active notice that she had been accompanied on her way home from school.
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