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. The air was thick with feelings. You don’t know, Anna, but when one is in danger one realizes that the— the other side of the line is Hell. I admit it.
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