Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. They thought that she was her own mother. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation. " "Then it was not a dream!" ejaculated Sir Rowland in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself. “I ate their mother first.
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