" "What's he know about copra and native talk?" "Nothing, probably; but I'll wager he'll pick it all up fast enough. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. 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. This I have sworn to do—this I will do. Half an hour's labour, during which he was obliged more than once to pause to regain breath, sufficed to make a hole wide enough to allow a passage for his arm up to the elbow. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. Courtlaw rose to his feet. Ludicrously loud sounds streamed from the array of speakers. Wood fared still worse.
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