” “Uh. ‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting Little Tower-hill, and threading the Minories and Hounsditch, he arrived without accident or molestation, at Moorfields. " Silence. The afternoon had passed now into twilight.
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