He waved a cordial goodbye. "Married!—no—no," replied the woollen-draper. He ate of the bread with great appetite, and having drunk as much as he chose of the water, poured the rest on the floor. 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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