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“Of course I mean, who was she?” “I believe that her name was Pellissier,” Ennison answered. 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. ’ ‘I know,’ he said, smiling. Wood's reception of the widow, who, at that moment, was ushered into the room by Winifred, was not particularly kind and encouraging. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes.
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