" "De jonker. ‘My dear boy, your loyalty is misplaced. 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. I have one shilling and sevenpence halfpenny left. He was going to tell me something— and he shut up. Dim possibilities that she would not seem to look at even to herself gesticulated in the twilight background of her mind. Wood's," was the reply.
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