Out of all this we have struck a sort of harmony. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. "Stolen by a gipsy when scarcely five years old, Constance Trenchard, after various vicissitudes, was carried to London, where she lived in great poverty, with the dregs of society. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it.
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