I bent over him. ‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. " "True, true," replied the knight, with an agonized look; "there is no alternative. " So saying, he closed the lantern. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. In all his life he had never realized a dream; but the thought had never before hurt him.
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