‘It is in truth you?’ ‘Of course it is I. ” A dull flush burned upon his cheeks. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. 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. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife. Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. “Look, dear,” she said presently, “you can put the ten on the Jack.
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