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. ‘Laisse-moi. E. ‘How could you? No wonder mademoiselle is angry with you. Papa doesn't even care, but he just goes along with whatever my Mom says. Life! Life and love! It makes me want to be always young, always strong, always devoting my life—and dying splendidly.
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