Francis Hopkinson Smith,
In Dickens's London — Chapter 13
(1914)
“ All of which the obliging janitor did, expounding my purpose to the occupant in such suave, silver tones that Mr. Grewgious's successor, a smooth-shaven, full-blooded man, a quill pen gripped between his lips as a dog carries cane, a pair of gold spectacles framing his friendly eyes, answered without a moment's hesitation: "Why, of course; when will it be?" "Whenever it will disturb you the least," I replied humbly. "Then come to-morrow. We close at twelve. Saturday, you know; when you won't have a soul in or out. When you get through lock the door and hang the key on a hook outside. ”
