It would have been a crisis anyhow, but it was complicated in Ann Veronica’s mind by the fact that a letter lay on the breakfast-table from Mr. Capes was rather a discovery. ” A flush of excitement crept into her cheeks. She told me the tale the other night, and I've only elaborated it. 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. " "Nor Jonathan Wild, I hope," interposed Sheppard. I’ll walk over there once I change clothes.
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