ToC On the night of Friday, the 26th of November, 1703, and at the hour of eleven, the door of a miserable habitation, situated in an obscure quarter of the Borough of Southwark, known as the Old Mint, was opened; and a man, with a lantern in his hand, appeared at the threshold. They litter up the room. " "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't. They incubate and grow at phenomenal speed, their hunger is tenthousand times what our greatest hunger could ever be.
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