“There is my aunt,” she said. 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. There was more to be told, and this was as good a time as any. This one too she read. ’ ‘I was merely drawing your attention to the odd prevalence of French émigrés claiming English antecedents.
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