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. ‘Don’t lose your temper again. . He offered me at once an engagement. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bright. "Where am I?" asked Spurlock. For it was not a good thing to like one man too much when one was going to marry another.
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