” She could have handled ten times the weight, and hoisted him on her back and carried him too. She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test. It was the moment for smiles. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. ‘So this is Pottiswick’s French spy. "All's bowman, my covey.
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