The likeness was ridiculous. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. Whatever may happen to-morrow I shall be none the better for anticipating its miseries to-day. He has been a father to me and my child. He turned, and beheld Winifred. “Lucy, you. 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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