’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. She is chosen to learn magic. But if not himself, there would be another soon enough. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. Ruth's eyes were wet, but she saw light everywhere: the room was filled with celestial aura. 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. Was it ruined?’ ‘But yes, it was entirely ruined.
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