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. Glancing around his prison, he began to think it possible he might effect an escape from it. I refused to sign a petition in his behalf to the Recorder; not from any ill-will to him, but because it was prepared by a person whom I particularly dislike— Captain Darrell. ” She hesitated. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. I’m a female thing at bottom. ” Her eyes were lit with humour. The chair is in the veranda.
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