Mischief bubbled up in her. 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. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. Why can’t you let it be?’ Gerald grinned at him. ’ ‘Can you prove it?’ demanded Hilary. As you admitted to me—one has to square one’s self with the world. Yes, I can readily believe it. She wanted to kiss his feet.
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