“But then they would find that check endorsed in his bureau. She had come to the end of her resources. 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’s no good. Both Spurlock and McClintock stood by their chairs until she was gone.
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