They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. She tugged at my coat and said, ‘I know of the blue-eyed maid. ” She blushed deeply. Gentlemen,—Mr. " 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.
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