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EPOCH THE FIRST, 1703. “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. Her head felt absurdly like one of those noddling manikins in the Hong-Kong curio-shops.
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