“Well, hello there. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. Happy Birthday, then. Everything in this world changed—except human folly. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark.
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