I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me. 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. ” He took a seat by her side. She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. Lost ground must be regained. She attempted by a sheer act of will to end the scene, to will herself out of it anywhere. ” She replied weakly.
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