They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. 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. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed.
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