Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. Lucy entered the house by picking the back door lock with the slim jim. . 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. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. "Ah! what is that?" he cried, pointing to a dark object floating near them amid the boiling waves, and which presented a frightful resemblance to a human face. ‘I’ll wager that militiaman never rode the animal, then. ’ The lodgekeeper’s jaw fell open.
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