"Do you think I'd part with the sweetest morsel of revenge on those terms? No! But I'll have the secret out of you by other means. She wished to view Sebastian again if only to reaffirm that there was a human being whose appearance remained unaltered by the vagaries of time and memory. "I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. 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. “May I be allowed to say,” he declared, “that I came here with the same intention. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. I cannot protect you. What will you give me to save you from your pursuers?" "Can you do so?" asked the other, doubtfully.
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