CHAPTER XI. . You’re a far cry from your usual gloomy self these days. I once saw a man die after collapsing that way. "The Chevalier shall hear of this," whispered the woollen-draper. He rang the doorbell, even though she had already cracked the door for him. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER.
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