Prom a knot of idlers at a public-house, he learnt that Jonathan Wild had just ridden past, and that his setters were scouring the country in every direction. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. " "Iss, missis," grinned the black. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. But if you do not leave this room I must.
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