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Entering the workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating the tire of a cart wheel. “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. ” “Nor I,” she remarked tersely. . Sheppard raised her eyes, and fixed them upon her interrogator. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside.
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