They became aware of the waitress standing over them with book and pencil ready for their bill. 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. "I have killed you," cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. For a moment O'Higgins had hoped that the ink applications would be recent. "I'll admit that.
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