You are taking it for granted that I am ‘Alcide. I am something of an old fogey, Anna, I’m afraid, but if you treat me like this you will teach me to forget it. She wanted air—and the distraction of having moving and changing things about her. 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. The last that is known of Monsieur Charvill is when he departed the Valade estate.
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