” “You all seem to be trying to pull my leg,” Sir John remarked quietly. You shall behold him. ” “Well, you see, something has happened at home. Occasionally he relit his pipe. ’ The pathetic sob which accompanied the last word had a signal effect on two of the company at least. ’ ‘Oh, a ruin,’ exclaimed Mrs Sindlesham, throwing up a hand. So Mrs. 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.
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