"However, I will be there. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. But Miss Stanley took no notice of these things. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether.
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