“Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. “How could I, when your sister sings now at the ‘Unusual’ every night and the name ‘Alcide’ flaunts from every placard in London?” “The likeness between us,” she said, “before I began to disfigure myself with rouge and ill-dressed hair, was remarkable. I ate only enough to keep body and soul together. It’s time she knew. " "Fooled or not," returned Mrs. Norris, and do not return till Father Spencer arrives.
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