He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler. And the woollen-draper departed. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. ’ ‘Madame la Comtesse,’ put in Melusine, for she had learned much by pumping le pére Saint-Simon, who was acquainted with all the French exiles.
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