He awoke, strangely content. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. And also she didn’t like them. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. It is very bad. But, after all, what does that matter? He is very much taken with me. “So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled. 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 crept behind the open door and pounced on him when he came out of the bathroom, knocking him onto the floor with a loud thud. "Who are you?" inquired Mrs. Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. “You can look as innocent and shocked as you please.
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