Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. ’ She giggled suddenly. “A move of any sort would certainly be fatal. 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. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. I'll be at the Cross Shovels in the course of the day. It begins with that queer piccolo solo. He hated the taste of it. Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction.
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