” “Well,” 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. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. She thought that women were not made for the struggle and turmoil of life— their place was the little world, the home; that their power lay not in votes but in influence over men and in making the minds of their children fine and splendid. That added to his puzzle. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there. . She laughed a little contemptuously. There's not his peer among the peerage.
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