She had never even brought a friend home in her time at the Becks, let alone been asked on dates. The last piece was Scheherazade. To his relief, she nodded. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. The Oriental waterfronts were rank with the stuff. Although Martha did not know it, she had her pistol and her daggers, and her knife. 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.
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