Arrived at Paddington, he struck across Marylebone Fields,—for as yet the New Road was undreamed of,—and never moderated his speed until he reached the city. Jonathan smiled contemptuously. Bring me clothing, I beg of you. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. “Your teeth are chattering! I’ll make you some hot chocolate!” Cathy cried. ‘Can’t see a thing.
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