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. "Oh! nothin' partickler—mere curossity," replied Terence. "His lordship desires me to say—ough! ough!" Fresh groans and hisses. Sheppard's ward, Sir. ” He paused with a sense of ineptitude. ‘Yes, miss. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. “Grail!” said Ann Veronica, and then: “Oh, yes—of course! Anything but a holy one, I’m afraid. But I had to know for sure.
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