He knew she had been weeping. She has had offers innumerable; for where wealth and beauty are combined, as in her instance, suitors are seldom wanting. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. Surely he was imagining this picture. ‘You the fellow Gerald spoke to?’ Kimble flushed beetroot, and Melusine had a flash of insight. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. You shall behold him.
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