After a while he spoke again. Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them. “I admired your sister in Paris,” he answered, “but I do not believe that I regard her now as altogether the same person. "But you are a good man, and you'll understand. "Thanks," he said, holding out a thin white hand. You may well say it's impossible! His Majesty's jail of Newgate is admirably guarded, I must say. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. I'm entirely at your service. “Your mother was a Gypsy. You may perceive harmony, proportion, rhythm, intensely.
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