I’m afraid I’m a terribly clumsy fellow. "He must be somewhere hereabouts," cried one of the horsemen, dismounting. Sheppard, and regarding her with an insolent and threatening glance. A murmur ran through the assemblage, by several of whom Jack was recognised. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. 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. "No, Sir Rowland," replied the attendant, "as you proposed to ride to Saint Albans to-night, I thought you might choose to see him yourself. "He can't get out. “I will take my chance.
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