At the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled upon a museum of rarities, there were so many glass-cases, so many open cabinets, ranged against the walls; but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a virtuoso, his tastes did not run in the ordinary channels. Speedily recovering himself, however, he rejoined, with forced calmness, "You are mistaken, Sir. ‘I wonder why the females of my acquaintance have absolutely no respect whatsoever for male authority?’ ‘Ha!’ came from Hilary. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. Blank it was, except for a gate near the bridgehead. Presently he caught her puzzled glance, and recollected himself, turning on the charm again. 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. What does it matter? It is here, and it is here to stay.
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