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. ” “The truth,” she murmured, with her eyes fixed upon him. A sinister thought edged in. "Alone?" "Not exactly, Sir. "Could you get any of the music last night?" "Yes. I've seen him often do it.
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