ToC After a few minutes' rapid walking, during which neither party uttered a word, Jonathan Wild and his companion had passed Saint Paul's, dived down a thoroughfare on the right, and reached Thames Street. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. Ann Veronica wondered what her father would do if she were to tell him the full story of her relations with Ramage. “You too sing?” he asked. Maybe it’s his loss.
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