" 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. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. ” “All right. I sat within a few feet of him. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband.
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