" "Stay!" said Mrs. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. 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. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. When she saw however that this man was a stranger, and obviously harmless, her expression changed as though by magic.
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