Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. The first circumstance that struck her on her arrival seemed ominous. He watched her orgasm come to life and he could hold back no longer. The cause of this uproar was soon manifest. 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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