“Stop!” He ran towards her. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. No breakfast, he’s had no dinner, hardly a mouthful of soup— since yesterday at tea. ” She said to him. 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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