They were the only real marriages she had seen clearly. ’ The smile vanished. 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 can only repeat what I said before,” she declared. ‘Inside, miss!’ ‘But what is it?’ ‘Quick! We need the major. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions.
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