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. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. Then he threw the letter at me. She opened her mouth and inhaled water. She's too pretty and unusual. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG. " "But you are educated!"—astonished. There was nothing on her face to hint of the misery that brimmed her heart this morning.
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