"Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. William Kneebone, Of me, Sir, you shall never be bone. ” She side-stepped into his living room from behind a square white column. "I'm my own master now, and I'll do as I please. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. She wondered wildly why she had stood up. Jack was lying so still, for a moment she panicked.
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