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‘Now I see that you are mad indeed. Marvel, who had been a little discomposed by the treatment he had experienced on Holborn Hill, very composedly filled and lighted his pipe. Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told. You used to beg me for hours at a time to give it all up, never to go near the ‘Ambassador’s’ again. 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.
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