We WERE thieves. I rarely set foot in London these days. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. What had actually beaten him was not to have known if someone had picked up his trail. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. "Mistress!" said the apprentice, making a final appeal to Mrs.
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