Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. She guessed that he probably slept all of three hours a night at most. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. A queer game this: he could not move directly as in an ordinary case of manhunt. Capes sat watching and admiring her, and then he fell praising the day and fortune and their love for each other. "Do better in future. 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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