The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. Wood, would preclude the possibility of his remaining with his new friends as long as his inclinations prompted. Taking up a link, which was blazing beside him, he walked across the room; and touching a spring in the wall, a secret door flew open. ” He laughed. ” “And no one else—has a key?” “I believe,” she said, “that that man must have one. Kneebone's habitation, the shutters of which were closed, and knocked at the door. “We have to be— modern. She prevaricated.
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