The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. Retract your words instantly, or take the consequences. 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. Her wings were oddly weak, but for all that she could fly. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy.
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