Kneebone, then, sat down to await the arrival of his expected guest. You have neither reason nor logic. ‘Come inside at once, child. The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it. A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. I have squeezed three kids into it afore now. Oh, Mr Jarvis paid no mind,’ she added hastily, as if expecting disapproval.
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