He looked at it with uplifted eyebrows, but made no remark. 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. Mr. Yes—as he would have liked. Her father became much less distant towards his only daughter in the days that followed. ’ Roding looked struck.
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