‘Come inside at once, child. . I'll not speak of Jack or Jonathan. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. . On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. 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. “What was that?” she asked sharply.
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