Moving to the shuttered window, Melusine dragged the heavy drapes back. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her. He said. The thought of them distressed her without subtracting at all from the oceans of happiness in which she swam. 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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