“Yes, aren’t they?” said Ann Veronica, after a thoughtful pause. The two friends contrasted strikingly with each other. Very likely by this time the whole truth is known. 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. And Pottiswick, of course. "If you knew how much importance I attach to your answer," he continued passionately, "you would not refuse me one.
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