"A secret is too valuable a commodity to be thrown away. I don’t conceal it. 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. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. At a little after five, on that day, four horses dashed round the corner of the Old Bailey, and drew up before the door of the Lodge.
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