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. “Well, he’s really smart. “It’s either now or never,” she said to herself. Well, come back in half an hour. So, when I tell you she loves you, I know. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. ” “I’ve told you,” he said.
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