“My hand! This isn’t the place. The young man did not know what he was doing or where he was. “I saw his face in a mirror. How many nuns were there in England who might have occasion to spy on Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom? The presence of the French refugees took on greater significance. " As if an order had come to her somewhere out of space, the girl glanced sideways at the other young fool. 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. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. This niggardliness compelled him to cross and recross streets.
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