He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. ‘Danged if I ever hear the like,’ he repeated blankly. “Was I not strong enough when you flogged me for leaning over the oubliette? Who tells you these things? The physician, Sebastianus? Am I not sovereign enough to judge what is happening to my own body?\" She demanded. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. "To go a little further. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. Not a moment is to be lost.
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