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. “One can’t tell. She formed a habit which embarrassed Spurlock greatly, but at first he dared not complain. Of the women felons' rooms nothing has yet been said. Somebody to depend upon her; somebody to have need of her, if only for a little while. He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening. The palanquin is hired and so is the procession. "We have him!" cried Jonathan, hurrying down the steps. Her moods were many and always striking. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter. The man was dangerous. Not many years ago, two men, employed on this duty, quarrelled during the night, and in the morning their bodies were found stretched upon the pavement of the yard beneath.
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