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 knew his poor mother, and for her sake I'll not see this done," cried John Dump. And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. Smith, "upon my conscience.
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