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" Sir Rowland made no reply, but angrily quickened his pace. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. Mind you don't stir till supper's over. Once more breaking through the hedge he took to the fields. "Ever play one of these machines?" "Yes. 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. Every word you utter puzzles me.
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