“We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. ‘You seem to understand the gentry very well. CHAPTER VIII. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. " O'Higgins, bitten with disappointment, returned the photograph to his pocket. At last I tried a dramatic agent, and got on the music hall stage. I shall still believe in you. "Strange!" he continued, as if talking to himself.
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