‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. ” The figure of her aunt, a little distant, a little propitiatory, behind the coffee things, filled her with a sense of almost catastrophic adventure. "I'm surprised Mr. Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting Little Tower-hill, and threading the Minories and Hounsditch, he arrived without accident or molestation, at Moorfields. More than half the city perished.
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