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She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. Russell burned like a beacon, but Capes illuminated by darting flashes and threw light, even if it was but momentary light, into a hundred corners that Russell left steadfastly in the shade. Wood's ornaments and wearing apparel, they prepared to depart. Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, toppling the man. ’ He became aware of his friend’s face before him. Her canines had receded, but were still 166 prominent. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive.
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