” “That settles it. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable. Don't shake so. . He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. 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. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. Wood. Earles himself stood upon the threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole. Then, in a few years, he and Ruth might fare forth in comfort and security. Wild had a narrow escape lately, in that affair of Captain Darrell," observed Shotbolt. He’s dead.
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