She was consumed by misery and hate. Marry, come up! I'll see who's to be obeyed. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window. You must have repented a little, or you would not have done that. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark.
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