" "The same who was here just now?" "No, Sir Rowland, a much finer boy. Wood,—Winifred fainted in the arms of a female attendant,—and Wood standing beside them almost in a state of distraction. I wonder. 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. Better even than these.
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