” He was dressed in his uniform of a Polo shirt and twill pants. Next to the executioner stood his wife—the former Mrs. 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. "Speak, or I fire!" "Well, if you will have it, it's Sir Rowland Trenchard. His patient was distinctly of a different order of life. No more. Instinctively she had fallen into the posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the song.
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