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. Her little white hand stole across the table. Arrived at the secret door, she grasped the lever that opened it and placed the lantern on the floor. The garçon was tipped as he had never been tipped before in his life. Then he sensed the trap. She had adored the stupid thing, and kept it in her pocket for about ten years.
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