’ ‘It was so,’ said Valade, becoming a trifle more fluent. "I don't think he would," acquiesced the carpenter. ‘I think you know my affianced husband. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. “Every one raves about her,” Lady Angela continued. Let me have a word with him, and you may take all the money. 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 was made welcome as McClintock's agent; but he politely declined all the proffered courtesies.
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