A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. He made her tell him the core of the difficulty. 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. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. The two friends contrasted strikingly with each other. Kneebone, what with flirting with Mrs. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. Here's Winny always urging you to go and visit Mrs. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions. ‘What do we do now?’ Gerald took a pace towards the girl. He replied, \"Want to go sit down somewhere?\" \"Sure. His clothes had evidently seen some service, and were plentifully begrimed with the dust of the workshop. “You were born for great things,” he said huskily.
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