The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. “You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked. ” “It is all the world to me. ‘Knowed it the instant I set eyes on her. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. ‘Stay, Saling!’ The butler halted, looking round enquiringly.
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