He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence. Perhaps the sunken cheeks and the protruding cheekbones gave her this impression. “How could I, when your sister sings now at the ‘Unusual’ every night and the name ‘Alcide’ flaunts from every placard in London?” “The likeness between us,” she said, “before I began to disfigure myself with rouge and ill-dressed hair, was remarkable. “You have them both,” Anna answered.
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