Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. “Don’t you get it, Lucy? I’ve always thought he was an idiot. 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. Sheppard. Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze. "A secret is too valuable a commodity to be thrown away. Walpole, and then to Newgate.
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