But you! Why the devil did you marry her? That's the thing that confounds me. "There! off with you!" whispered Mrs. His brain reeled. 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 was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. Kneebone, addressing his comely attendant; "put a few more plates on the table, and bring up whatever there is in the larder. Bullding,” she declared. He had only to recall this fact (which he did in each crisis) to erect a barrier she could not go around or over.
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