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And Blueskin, who, for a moment, had looked round distrustfully, concluding it was a feint, now laughed louder than ever. I am your husband, though as yet your hand has scarcely lain in mine. \"May I come in?\" His bravado was increasing. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. "Agreed," responded the Master. 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. And, by way of checking his housekeeper's familiarity, he pointed significantly to the table.
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