“There ought to be a Censorship of Books. One trouble, however, shot its slanting bolts athwart the shining warmth of that opening day and marred its perfection, and that was the thought of her father. When she arrived at the Palazzo, not a single sentry was aware of her presence. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it. We sha’n’t hang up on any misunderstanding. She did not forge a note. There would be no way of keeping her police questioning a secret from the entire neighborhood. 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. And I guessed you would attack if I startled you.
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