“We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. "Stow it, Nab!" exclaimed Quilt, angrily; "the kinchen's awake. The first was to break a dinner engagement. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. "Because it's not like you," was her answer. See you in Science Class. "Is your person in danger?" "Not from my creditors," replied Wood, significantly.
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