’ He flushed. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him. I’d only get a pack of lies in reply. 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. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. Lucy sprinted to one side to avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece like strands of rotten corn silk. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. She entered the room in the shadows.
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