"There's the exact expression I want. ” “Well, why not?” Lady Lescelles asked, smiling. 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. “Why not?” he exclaimed. He feared to antagonize that distinguished person. It’s just hard to keep things from her. ’ ‘And me,’ came the guttural response, ‘I will certainly murder you the very next time I am compelled to see your face. His eyes swept the company, and fell upon Melusine with a glare. I thought he was in Newgate. .
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