It may be well, therefore, before proceeding farther, to describe it more minutely. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. 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. . Consider you’ve got resources deposited with me. But I waited in vain. ’ He sighed, spread his hands quite in her own manner, and fluttered his lashes. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently.
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