I’ve been waiting all my life to get out of this town. He seemed to be about to move toward her. ” He leaned back in his chair as though wearied. I will be as silent as the grave. ” She thanked him with one of her shy little glances. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER. .
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