It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. Read it, and you'll find that your unfortunate uncle, Sir Rowland, surrenders to you all the estates in Lancashire. "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. ’ ‘Pah! How can it be romantic? That is silly. "Jonathan Wild shall find it's not easy to detain me. ’ ‘But I have told you not,’ she protested.
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