"You do love me?" "God knows how much!" Suddenly he laid his head on her shoulder. 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. I kept watch over you, for fear of a surprise on the part of Jonathan. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt.
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