Smith decidedly the plainest of the two. And my word's law—with you, at least," she added, bestowing a cutting glance upon her husband. 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. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words. Murder had become nothing to her. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate.
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