There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. All that she had ever loved were gone, except Sebastian. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. 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. CHAPTER X. ‘And I am thinking now that you may be very suitable.
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