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. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. “Well?” he asked her tersely. He had become an extremely handsome man, his hair having darkened and his shoulders having realized their full size. "Ah!" she screamed, seeing the uplifted weapon in Sheppard's hand, "don't hurt Thames—don't, dear Jack! If you want to kill somebody, kill me, not him.
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