“I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. She listened, listened intently for several minutes. 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 did not reckon upon—him. She had had two days of employment-seeking now. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. "Or trying to be," answered the doctor.
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