Solomon Smith, chapmen, (or what in modern vulgar parlance would be termed bagmen) travelling to procure orders for the house of an eminent cloth manufacturer in Manchester. “You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. It’s awkward, but we’ll get round it somehow. For what she lacked in appearance, Sheila compensated in gossip. Some automaton within her produced in a quite unfamiliar voice the remark, “They’re playing football. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit.
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