“Thank you—and good-bye. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. . He found himself growing hoarse yelling over the music, but it also situated him to lean towards her to put his hand on her ear to aid her hearing. 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. Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade.
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