’ ‘Dear me. Again silence. "Thank Heaven! I'm not basely born. . “We settled long ago—we’re hard stuff. Practically. Perhaps you will explain the state of panic into which I seem to have thrown you. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. “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. ’ Lucilla Froxfield laughed gaily. ‘Ah, the tragedy. I couldn’t sit down for a week!” “Oh, how terrible for you. ” “You are foolish,” she declared, with a note of irritability in her tone.
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