Wood, sharply. I am sure it will be good, John, and I could eat anything. He squinted and a disgusted look came over him. It took all my self control not to let my hands wander. ” She shivered. 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. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean.
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