Her belly was being touched, she felt her thighs caressed softly. "Stop thief!" roared Jonathan, who perceived the fugitive hurrying along a street towards Hatton Garden. The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. Paul's are his work.
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