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. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. “Can we watch television?” She asked. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. As absurd as that you take this interest in my affairs.
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