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. ” Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. “Monsieur would dine! It was very good! And Madame, of course?” with a low bow. ” He stood quite silent for a moment, his eyes fixed upon her face.
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