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. As he understood it, folks saw in two or three days all there was to see of Canton. ” Lucy yanked him into the hidden door to Room 109, a door to the backstage that looked like the entrance to a broom closet.
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