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. Rollo began to cavort. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. 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. She called them back very soon. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments.
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