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. “I am sick of it. They got in my mouth. She succumbed to cancer of the breast at age forty-three, it was slow and wasting. There was no light in the room; but, notwithstanding this, the young man did not fail to detect the buxom figure of Mrs. You cannot—shall not retreat. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek.
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