And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. Both had very singular faces; very odd wigs, very much pulled over their brows; and very large cravats, very much raised above their chins. ” “And I also,” Brendon echoed. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. But it was of no avail. ‘Except Captain Roding,’ agreed the old lady, nodding at the butler.
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