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Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green. . ’ ‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. A tall elegantly dressed woman, followed by a maid, came down the broad staircase. But when she learns that you are a fugitive from justice…. I am a murderer. Was it a week ago? No, perhaps more. ’ The lashes fluttered demurely. But we were both pledged to secrecy, and I couldn’t reveal my part for fear that I would lose my place. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark.
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