’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. We ourselves have been similarly circumstanced. “Silly!” he remarked after a pause. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. “The wrappered life-discipline! One comes to that at last. Now when I tell you exactly the truth, you will also not believe me. No fear o' that. A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart.
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