” The lights were lowered, and an attentive waiter hovered round Anna’s cloak. This had well nigh been the case with the carpenter. “We have a private room at St. That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. 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. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player. Into one of these he waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear.
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