And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. The hardest bout I ever had was with a woman—Sally Wells, who was afterwards lagged for shoplifting. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat.
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