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. Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. But I don’t wish to hear that abomination on her lips again. ’ Gerald frowned. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau.
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