About nine o'clock, an immense mob collected before the Lodge at Newgate. ‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. I intend to remain very serious indeed while I’m doing it. ’ Gerald frowned in an effort of memory, and then laughed as he recalled one of the lies she had invented for his benefit. 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.
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