It’s a mismatch. "It's very well Mr. "Halloa!" exclaimed Austin, who had caught a glimpse of her departing figure, "one of the women is gone!" "No—no," hastily interposed 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. Her mother tried to soothe her with tales of romance and love, of all the fineries that she would enjoy in the Palazzo, but all Lucia could do was cry until her cheeks twitched and her forehead ached.
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