“I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. But she disapproved more and more of her own mental austerity. Pshaw!" added he, making an effort to subdue his emotion, "I can't leave you in this way. Ha!" exclaimed the stranger, as shouts and other vociferations resounded at no great distance along the thoroughfare, "not a moment is to be lost. He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too late. ‘Well, I thought as how someone in the house in Paddington might see me hanging about outside like. It probably still wouldn’t help. Get the pole out of your ass. 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. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin.
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