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. Figg," replied Jack, smiling; "for, before I'm taken to Tyburn, I mean to borrow a shirt for the occasion from you. Ah! but you can’t imagine what you are to me and what you mean to me! I suppose there is something mystical and wonderful about all women. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. Mademoiselle has had no harm of me,’ Gerald said soothingly and bowed. In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable. Manned by a couple of watermen, who rowed with great swiftness, this wherry dashed through the current in the track of the fugitive, of whom it was evidently in pursuit, and upon whom it perceptibly gained. ” She fumbled with her keys and opened the front door. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. Love lives on a higher plane. To have you is all important. At least that, I think, is what makes a clever woman’s independent career so much more difficult than a clever man’s.
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