There it was—to be borrowed. The gallows has groaned for him for years. "What was it?" He was insistent. I consider even now that the present colour is far less becoming. William Kneebone was a woollen-draper of "credit and renown," whose place of business was held at the sign of the Angel (for, in those days, every shop had its sign), opposite Saint Clement's church in the Strand. . It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean.
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