’ A peal of laughter came from the girl. It was a great weight from her shoulders to confide in another human being, and she suspected he did truly believe her. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love.
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