At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. " "Make it positive," was the brisk reply. Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him. 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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