Mrs. 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. He knocked his pipe on the teak rail. He gently took the roses from her and laid them on the pillow. "The poor young man!" sighed Angelina. Naturally he was a member of the National Honor Society and a straight A student on the Honor Roll. To him she had always appeared as a mere pleasure-loving parasite—something quite insignificant. “I hope you have not come for that. She rested for a half hour in heaven on earth, feeling herself drift in and out of sleep.
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