‘And we shall see which of us is more quick. I felt his heart. Mr. You will do as I say, or—’ ‘Hoy!’ called Trodger from down the hall. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. 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. She drew a breath, and sighed it out.
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