So I come round the other way and—Lordy, miss, I’m that sorry I made a mull of it. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. ’ ‘Gad, but she’s a beauty,’ gasped Hilary, and slammed his sword back in its scabbard.
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