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faction:factionbook7 [2013/05/30 22:29] (current)
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|+||On a fine October afternoon in 1882, Rose Donnelly, maid-of-all-work,|
|+||Through narrow alleyways and cobbled lanes wedged between Whitechapel,|
|+||Still, Rose learns he has a bolt hole somewhere in Spitalfields. He speaks a smattering of Yiddish. He has a talent for picking pockets. He's a genius with the deceptively simple disguise.|
|+||It's a thrilling start. It's for her doctoral thesis. Or so she believes.|