. 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. She would then partially recall the items that she had heard about him, presenting each at the angle that was the most likely to inflict pain. "One word before we part, adorable girl— only one," he continued, detaining her. Still, they bob up occasionally. Let's get one idea into our heads. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. Every minute I spend here is an education to me.
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