At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. “Then you—you will?” A long pause. She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. . Beyond that everything was nebulous. 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. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style.
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