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. Now, you and I can gossip at a gate, and Honi soit qui mal y pense. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you. ‘That piece of information seemed to interest him very much. At last, he got into a lane, but had not proceeded far when he was again alarmed by the sound of a horse's tread.
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