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Trifle useful?" he added, slipping a few gold pieces into Jack's hand. 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. Thankfully only the children were home, so there was no one to take active notice that she had been accompanied on her way home from school. ‘Yes, but quite my own fault. She refused coffee, though she knew that anyhow she was doomed to a sleepless night. Nigel Ennison, Annabel.
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