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As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard his own name pronounced, and found that it was a hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. "Stop thief!" roared Jonathan, who perceived the fugitive hurrying along a street towards Hatton Garden. “What?” He replied. Let us be friends—as near and close as friends can be. " CHAPTER XIV.
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