The intoxicating sense of novelty had given place to a more business-like mood. Terrific yells rent the air. 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. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. Ah Cum was not a sailor, but he knew his water-front. Look! Is that some one coming out?” The front door of the flats stood open, and through it a woman, slim and veiled, passed on to the pavement and turned with swift footsteps in the opposite direction. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head.
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