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. John sat pensively in the back of his best friend's mother's minivan, piloted by his best friend Mark. ‘You do not understand, Gérard.
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