’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve. 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. There it was—to be borrowed. But they did not know how good she was, how perfect she was. ’ ‘And your precious vicomte didn’t wish for the English one,’ said Charvill, acid in his voice.
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