For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. "Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. "What's to be done next?" cried Blueskin, returning to Rachel, who was standing with Edgeworth Bess near the door.
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