It's all your fault, you shaking coward! and, but that I feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw you into the well, too. A lovely, fetching girl. His smile faded. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. Earles. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark.
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