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. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. “I didn’t think you’d come. Towards this spot Mrs. Sir John heard gossip about us—about Anna the recluse, a paragon of virtue, and Annabel alias ‘Alcide’ a dancer at the cafés chantants, and concerning whom there were many stories which were false, and a few—which were true. If you two are examples of the modern miss, I don’t know what the world is coming to. You foolish girl!” Ann Veronica took that in silence.
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