The library was on the ground floor, Melusine recalled from the previous visit, for she had searched through a desk in a room filled with bookshelves of leatherbound volumes. No one could take the place for anything but what it was, and even Gosse hesitated in the doorway. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. It was necessary to think, and think quickly. 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 stared hard at her finger-nails. ‘Precisely. There was plenty of sweet water. Ah Coom.
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