Since the discovery of them, she had been madly eager to read these typewritten tales. It was on the night of the Great Storm that I found him. She recoiled. 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. "No," replied Jonathan, "I'll not take you at your word, as regards the latter proposition. "You've perjured yourself. ” She smiled at him, an understanding smile, but her words defied him. How she needed him! Next moment, she had wrenched open the door, and was confronting her guard. I've despatched him to the New Prison.
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