She leaned a little towards him. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. “Thank you both for treating me for all the world like I was your child. 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. It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white.
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