She wondered abjectly whether he intended to rape her before she was dead. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him. “You look nice today, Lucy. No! That was impossible. 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. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun.
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