He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. 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. “All day. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. “I think,” he said, “that I would fetch any one whom he has asked to see. Your kid has already brought me good luck, and may bring me still more if his edication's attended to. “It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. ‘You’re the most troublesome wretch I’ve ever encountered,’ he told her bitterly. Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them.
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