I have said good-bye to it all. Sometimes they marry well. And I have no more the pistol. " 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. You simply can't get good oil down there, so I must husband the few drams I carry. CHAPTER V.
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