’ Roding blinked. 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. This amazing world she had set forth to discover! Yesterday at this time she had had no thought in her head about Canton. ” “You would let him—knowing—all that you know?” “Why not? She is my flesh and blood. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua.
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