He fended these things off from him with the rump of his fourth piece of cake. She spent many days in the castle alone as he busied himself with his alchemy, or traveled to Florence to visit his remaining political connections. Her mind developed into savage wrath at the present conditions of a woman’s life. He would pursue that little pastime on some other occasion. She made an abrupt personal appeal. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. 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. ‘How much does he know?’ Without waiting for a reply, she turned narrowed eyes on Gerald. He had looked at it before without comprehension.
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