Rousing himself, he went to the door. 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. I didn’t understand. He then said that if she would not obey him in this course she should “never darken his doors again,” and was, indeed, frightfully abusive. I am yours for the making over. If he keeps his word, I'll keep mine. She picked up the hand cannon. They had escaped from the New Prison, it is true; but the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell, by which that jail was formerly surrounded, and which was more than twenty feet high, and protected by formidable and bristling chevaux de frise, remained to be scaled. She paused for a moment.
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