He sat before a desk littered all over with papers and official looking documents. She met his eye for a moment in curious surprise. He did his best not to grin. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. But this was important. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. Then they rode off at speed. " 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.
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