Anna leaned forward, watching the people in the streets. She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. 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. This was his sister, evidently in the last extremity. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. " And, with a few magical touches, he stamped the fleeting expression on the canvass. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard.
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