“You met no one upon the stairs, or saw no one leave the flats?” “No one,” Anna answered firmly. “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. “Lucy, you. I shall have to discover one suitable. CHAPTER II.
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