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The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. Winifred screamed. On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a prayer) let down the bars to his reserve. Sheppard. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. “Not at all. 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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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 29-09-2024 07:11:39