Marina doted over her pregnant daughter, adorned in fine brocades, reassuring her that it was certain to be a either a baby boy or a girl of such great beauty she would eclipse them both. ‘Have you any more pretty toys like that knife about you?’ ‘The girl’s a regular arsenal,’ Hilary snapped, giving up into his senior’s hand the nasty little weapon he had snatched. “But perhaps I want to confess them. The first circumstance that struck her on her arrival seemed ominous. I have nothing, nothing that can possibly be passion for you. He was content to talk about himself, though in the back of his clever mind he already suspected that she was not offering any details about her life. 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.
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