47, straightening her hat and waiting for her luggage to appear. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. "Get up, then," said Jack, freeing his foot from the stirrup. "My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. " Starting at a rapid pace in the direction of the Old Bailey, and crossing Fleet Bridge, "for oyster tubs renowned," the trio skirted the right bank of the muddy stream until they reached Fleet Lane, up which they hurried.
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