In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. ” “I thought I was old enough,” she gasped, between laughter and crying. "This gentleman brings us tidings of an old friend, my dear," said the carpenter. 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.
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