“But, my dear!” said Ann Veronica’s aunt. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. " "You may go, and welcome, Madam!" rejoined Kneebone, spitefully. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. " Mr. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. As Jack departed, a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed after him. Mr. "Arrest!" "Jigger closed!" shouted a hoarse voice in reply. 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.
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