“This is all madness,” she declared wearily. 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. "How do you know that?" rejoined Jack. " "Well, I've a job open; but I don't want you to get the wrong idea of it. I'm burning to get to work.
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