Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. She proffered her neck towards him. There was a case, or something, some years ago. 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. ’ ‘Oh yes, yes. “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. “He sees through it all.
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