” He looked at her pleadingly. I have the right also to throw you out. ” Her words were slurred with sleep. 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. " Trenchard, meanwhile, whose gaze was fixed upon the boy, became livid as death, but he moved not a muscle.
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