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You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice. 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. The necessity of defending herself and assuming a confident and secure tone did much to dispell the sense of being exposed and indefensible in a huge dingy world that abounded in sinister possibilities. ‘But I’ve known that for years. Mr. Never did I need a rescue so much. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape. ” Annabel’s hand stole into his.
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