‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. Traversing what remained of Wych Street at a rapid pace, and speeding along Drury Lane, the trio soon found themselves in Kendrick Yard. That would come later. You've saved my life. "Gentlemen of the Mint," said the orator, "when I was first called, some fifty years ago, to the important office I hold, there existed across the water three places of refuge for the oppressed and persecuted debtor.
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