" "He won't be taking that. Perhaps I've been mad all these years; I don't know. "I am only fit for such as him. . I won't keep you long. The stranger started at the touch, and spoke. That was one of the compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the world. 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. The terrific mental tension of the past few months —that had held his bodily nourishment in a kind of strangulation—became as a dream; and now his vitals responded rapidly to food and air. “It is the first moment we have let him out of our sight,” Brendon exclaimed, as he hastened across the street. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire. There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. "But the past is irremediable, and I did not come hither to exculpate myself, I came to save your life," he added, turning to Thames.
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