" "There's some one in the garden at this moment," cried Jack; "I saw a face at the window. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the fact was evident but not the reason for it. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. 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. Mrs. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. “How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh.
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