I hope I may never come near her. Fascination. ToC Nearly nine years after the events last recorded, and about the middle of May, 1724, a young man of remarkably prepossessing appearance took his way, one afternoon, along Wych Street; and, from the curiosity with which he regarded the houses on the left of the road, seemed to be in search of some particular habitation. Others pulled hats over their noses, cowered in their seats, and feigned that all was right with the world. “You found the cabochon? After all these years?” He asked, incredulous.
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