"Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. She was in excellent spirits, and it was not until she had taken off her hat, and was considering the question of dinner or no dinner, that she remembered that another day had passed, and she was not a whit nearer being able to pay her tomorrow’s bill. ’ ‘The horse?’ echoed Melusine. Later on I could scarcely have forgiven you. She felt sharp animal teeth pierce her above her shoulder. ‘You wish to die?’ ‘Not in the least. There was no longer any risk in association with her. 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. She trembled; but she did not know why.
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