He was dressed immaculately in a suit of heavy Shantung silk. Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. He laughed lightly. 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. “Tell him that he is mad. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. “Those things are not for me just at present. It’s odd how little I know of him, and of how he feels and what he feels.
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