Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting Little Tower-hill, and threading the Minories and Hounsditch, he arrived without accident or molestation, at Moorfields. From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. "Ah! Quilt Arnold, my man, is it you? By the powers! I'm glad to see you. You hurt the child. One transgression; he was sure of that.
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