But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it. " Some innate sense of balance told her that something was wrong with these tales. Lucy looked at her reflection with a measure of awe. No, this was not reasonable. Anna went out. 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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