And this utter stranger … loved him! He had no reason to doubt McClintock's statement; the Scot had solved the riddle why Ruth Enschede had married Howard Spurlock. "By the powers!" he added, turning his lantern full upon the face of the captive, "he's a nice gennteel-lookin' kiddy, I must say. "The Beachcombers. I'll wait here. ’ ‘I will not. 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. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally.
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