But you—you have a good face. 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. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. He was tried at the last Old Bailey sessions; and only escaped the gallows by impeaching his accomplices. To his relief, Mrs Sindlesham stepped into the breach, grasping her cane and rising painfully from her chair. Austin could scarcely credit his senses when he beheld him. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. She's not for pleasure, but for work.
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