John Sheppard. Lucy dug out an old light gray cotton miniskirt that had shrunk on Shari in the wash. I was the last on board. 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. “So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled. To—to find myself.
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