“Veronica!” cried Miss Stanley, warningly, and, “Peter!” For a moment they seemed on the verge of an altogether desperate scuffle. 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. “I saw you go into that place, and I have been waiting for you ever since. Soon I shall make my début, that it will be known that I am the real Melusine Charvill, and then I shall not require the services any longer of this imbecile of a Gérard. They should never come into contact with politics or economics—or any of those things. Gerald’s temper flared. Tonight Lucy doled out outré physiological theories of boys and their overactive hormones. Aware of his father's inflexibility of purpose, he set his wits to work to defeat the design. Why he paid so much attention to Sir James Thornhill may be explained anon.
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