That was one of the compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the world. But not today. ‘Not here. Me, you may have. 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. "Oh God!" exclaimed Jack, in a tone of the bitterest anguish. This man’s name is Montague Hill. " "Do you think so?" replied Kneebone, taking it off, and placing it on her finger, which he took the opportunity of kissing at the same time; "wear it for my sake. After he had endured this torture for an hour, at a sign from Wild another hundred weight was added.
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