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She herself had cut the slender tie that had bound them. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. Norris, wringing her hands and wepping, the unfortunate lady was placed upon a couch. Her head ached with a hollow pain. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard.
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