"As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. ” She grinned. ’ They passed through a little antechamber, and Melusine sighed with relief as she entered the library next door. Her mind went on generalizing. 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. As to his mother, I've no pity for her. It’s on the horse.
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