But he had always felt (he had never allowed himself to think of it) that the promptitude of their family was a little indelicate of her, and in a sense an intrusion. She shook her head. Starting off at a rapid pace, Jack dashed down Turnagain-lane, skirted the eastern bank of Fleet-ditch, crossed Holborn Bridge, and began to ascend the neighbouring hill. She bent down. Ruth shivered; she was cold. Jonathan Wild and his bloodhounds, with a hundred others, incited by the reward, will be upon my track.
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