To the poor carpenter it seemed an endless distance. “You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. What a contrast did the lovely scene she now gazed upon present to the squalid neighbourhood she had recently quitted! On all sides, expanded prospects of country the most exquisite and most varied. “But I still think of my old foster brothers and sisters.
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