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. When I was younger, I was very sick with a deadly flu. But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. “I’m not so sure. Her heart in her mouth, she heard his foot scrape on the floorboard and knew from his expression that Gosse had heard it too. She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right.
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