’ ‘What young lady?’ demanded a voice from the back of the hall. ’ She stopped, her lips tightening. 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. . No work that offered was at all of the quality she had vaguely postulated for herself. It will take a month to clean up. “I can tell you are thinking about it.
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