His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. Wood, sharply. “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. ’ ‘Why must you?’ asked Gerald calmly.
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