Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. This Joan would hold them for a little. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. " "At your peril, sirrah!" cried Wood. They had changed identities absolutely. Now, do what you please. I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua.
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