Candleman gives me more and more special orders; shoes to be made for noblemen and women that he has been contracted to make up for a merchant he deals with regularly. Today I have laboured over another difficult pair but I manage to get them to a point where I can safely leave them when it is time to shut up shop. My master wanders over and inspects them, says nothing but nods his head in satisfied manner. This is his usual response now that he leaves me to get on with jobs, knowing I will do well without constantly being overlooked.
"You"d best be on your way Will," he says at last. "The crowds are gathering."
"Well, I"m up to the point I should be with this pair," I reply.
"Yes, yes, I know. Be on your way now."
I need no further bidding. I put on my cap and hurry out into the stree
