‘I recall my father speaking of you as a Remenham. Your fingers are even now as stiff as a schoolgirl’s. Most of the boys did not possess the manners that he did. "I've done no more than my duty, Mrs. Be off!" "Jack!" exclaimed his unhappy parent. And besides—We’re going to live, Ann Veronica! Oh, the things we’ll do, the life we’ll lead! There’ll be trouble in it at times—you and I aren’t going to run without friction. 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.
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