‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. With such qualifications as she possessed, two chief channels of employment lay open, and neither attracted her, neither seemed really to offer a conclusive escape from that subjection to mankind against which, in the person of her father, she was rebelling. Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty.
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