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. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. ’ A sudden frown sprang to the fellow’s face. ” Hill staggered to his feet and drew a folded paper from his pocket. Jonathan shook his head. "In Heaven's name! what's all this?" cried Wood.
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