There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. Before he forced an entrance, Jack tried it, and, to his great surprise and delight, found it unfastened. He remembered that he had heard stories about the wonderful likeness between these two sisters, one of whom was an artist and a recluse, whilst the other had attached herself to a very gay and a very brilliant little coterie of pleasure-seekers. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed.
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