" Starting at a rapid pace in the direction of the Old Bailey, and crossing Fleet Bridge, "for oyster tubs renowned," the trio skirted the right bank of the muddy stream until they reached Fleet Lane, up which they hurried. ’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. I did so. Anyhow, it were me as got you down to the wetnurse. Anna stood looking down upon her sister with grave perturbed face. At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one.
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