’ ‘Pottiswick, you mean, miss?’ ‘Yes, yes. His shoulders relaxed and his gaze wavered. ” Anna shook her head. ” “In the Middle Ages, from what you’re telling me. 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. “Will they worry about you getting caught in a storm?” She asked him as she viewed black clouds floating in different directions. At Anna’s words she seemed suddenly to stiffen. No one in the world is beyond the shaft of scandal— we all catch it terribly sometimes.
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