The son of Prudence instead was obliged to take her back to the convent on Sunday to see Martha and tell her the good news, and to fetch her meagre belongings. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. It’s these damned novels. I saw him yesterday, and he told me he shouldn't stir from home for a week to come. But a middle-aged man like Ramage ought to know better than to draw out a girl, the daughter of a friend and neighbor. 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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