ToC On the night of Friday, the 26th of November, 1703, and at the hour of eleven, the door of a miserable habitation, situated in an obscure quarter of the Borough of Southwark, known as the Old Mint, was opened; and a man, with a lantern in his hand, appeared at the threshold. “Most of it is ugly and frowsy,” she declared, “but it isn’t worth talking about. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. You say that you only love Captain Darrell as a brother—" "Mr.
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