’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. "It's you, Jack, who are persuading my brother to do wrong. You are wrong even about that man’s scientific position and his standard of work. "But be prudent, my angel. He then said that if she would not obey him in this course she should “never darken his doors again,” and was, indeed, frightfully abusive. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. We are not animals. 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.
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