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. ” “Certainly! The thing which appeals to our sense of humour is the fact that you and la petite Pellissier were dining together. Strike the gag, Blueskin. I have tried not to tell you—tried to be simply your friend. ’ ‘With ease, mademoiselle,’ he countered, catching her blade. Perceiving he was about to take leave, Kneebone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of addressing. “How’d you know it was me?” He looked conspiratorially into the room for hidden informants. She wanted to think. ‘If he had, he’d have found the sword, see. All of us were fussy, colicky babies from what she tells me. Kneebone, who began to feel sleepy, wound it up, and snuffed the candles.
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