“I saw his face in a mirror. Glad to get back, I’m sure,” he said briskly. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. 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. That is what my mother used to call me.
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