’ ‘Who was to know if you would find your place?’ countered Martha. In seconds, they faced each other before the altar. 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 girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. ’ She glared at Hilary. Melusine shrieked an imprecation, and ran the length of the aisle, searching for the weapon she had thrown. Perhaps if I had watched over her more closely, things would have been different.
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