"Who, then?" demanded Jack. This time she feinted as his point came up to deflect her own, and disengaging, passed under and cut at his cheek. Teenagers buzzed about her newly discovered talent for the violin in the same sentences as they gossiped about her torrid police scandal and a lost mother who remained in the deep shadows of murder mystery. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. Suddenly she thrust her head out of the window. 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.
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