The evenings were dulcet and soft. 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. ‘Though we might have done, if a certain addlepated clothhead hadn’t let her get away. " "Not your only chance, Thames," returned Jack, in the same undertone; "but your best. ” Her eyes were lit with humour. And I don't want anything of yours destroyed, Hoddy. I will never consent till I see him. He’ll appoint a meeting place with you and be ready at any time to bring a message to me.
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