This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. To be with you is the best moral tonic I know. 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. I will not be sent away. Anna sat quite still for a moment, and then the colour suddenly returned to her cheeks. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. You'll find the benefit of it by and by.
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