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It took my breath away. I felt somehow I’d hurt you. And because he knew it was a burden, there was no gaiety upon the doctor's face; neither was there speech on his tongue. “A ballot-box, you know,” he said, “is very largely just a box. 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. Hope reared.
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