After quarter of an hour, she followed. White became conscious of a distinct sense of uneasiness, and showed it in her face. She thought of the marvellous beauty of skin, and all the delightfulness of living texture. Was the situation so desperate that he could not pack his best things? She had packed lightly, not wanting to weigh down the carriage they would travel in. 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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