You know—if you want freedom. ” The wonderful likeness between the two girls was never less noticeable than at that moment. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. For Ruth grew lovelier as the days went on. Both had very singular faces; very odd wigs, very much pulled over their brows; and very large cravats, very much raised above their chins. “Hey sis!” He cried drunkenly. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. " "You are offering your hand to me?" "Without reservations.
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