The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. Then he stood up and repeated it again. Mr. ” Lucy said. She looked and felt like a fairy princess. There was, it might be said, a double illumination. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. The babies that the woman—your wife—refused to stop creating. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor.
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