‘You wish a reason for jealousy? Eh bien, you may have it. But she was staring seaward and did not notice the offering. 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. " "I am not unprotected," rejoined the poor woman; "there's some one at the window. “But I still think of my old foster brothers and sisters. She always left the table when they began to smoke. CHAPTER XI.
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