. She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort. 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. ‘Stay, Saling!’ The butler halted, looking round enquiringly. Once they were on the move, Kimble seemed to find strength from somewhere. The man was my husband. I burned it.
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