He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. 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. “Quite right,” she said. I know now what it is to be an abandoned female. Can I be of any assistance? I can assure you that it would give me very much pleasure. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. I had a perfect shoal of callers.
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