Michelle moaned and Lucy, unable to help herself, stroked her hair. She was new, unlike any other woman he had met in all his wide travel. I have pleaded with her—no wonder that I have pleaded with her in vain. 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.
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