With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. At ninethirty he climbed into the chair and signified to Ah Cum that he was ready. Arrived at Paddington, he struck across Marylebone Fields,—for as yet the New Road was undreamed of,—and never moderated his speed until he reached the city. 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. ’ ‘But you do not make love,’ Melusine pointed out.
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