“Solitary walks?” “That’s the point of them. Spurling has induced him to sit down again. " "Agreed. ” “Delusion!” he muttered, glaring at her. 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. For this three weeks had been the hardest of her life. I spent many happy days there. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. ’ The fellow seized on this.
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