She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. ‘If you had met her, you’d understand. “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. "I wonder," said Ruth. The pleasure intensified quickly, it was as much control as she dared to lose as she heard herself calling his name with all her breath. It was on the night of the Great Storm that I found him.
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