A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. The doctor expected her to seize upon the subtle inference that there was something furtive, even criminal, in the manner the patient set this obligation upon humanity at large, to look after him in the event of his death. ‘Be quiet, man,’ snapped Hilary, watching the Frenchman go by with the lad after him. 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. They would arrive sometime in June. Remain at the door, Nab," he added, loitering for a moment behind the others, "and let no one in, or out.
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