Ice had begun to form in the shallows. 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. After him! A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. "You think our sex has no feeling, I suppose, Sir," cried Mrs. “She has been to my flat before.
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