Edgeworth Bess, who passed for Sheppard's wife, was secured. The pause lengthened, and he had the satisfaction of seeing despair melt the set mockery of Spurlock's mouth. 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. You have neither reason nor logic. "O, lud!" she cried; "French noblemen in disguise! and so rude as I was! I shall never recover it!" "A good supper will set all to rights," insinuated Kneebone.
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