" It was curiously like the intermittent murmur of the surf, those weird Sundays, when her father paused for breath to launch additional damnation for those who disobeyed the Word. After the sights he would have to twiddle his thumbs until the joints cracked. Gerald had been confident that the boy would not dream of disobeying an order thrown at him by a major of militia, but he guessed Jack might be wondering if he was about to be haled off to prison. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. 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. ” “Well, tell me. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. "The Dutchman was right, after all. "This is very fine of you, Miss…. " "Give them to me," replied Jack. . " After some further arguments, Jack assented to this proposal. But he had always felt (he had never allowed himself to think of it) that the promptitude of their family was a little indelicate of her, and in a sense an intrusion. “I’ve brought you up some dinner, Vee,” she said. It seemed at first the most beautiful afternoon of all time to her, and perhaps the thrill of her excitement did add a distinctive and culminating keenness to the day.
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