He looked at her levelly. There was something in his eyes, a sort of quizzical admiration; she wondered if it was simply admiration ofJessamine’s looks. “No,” he said. “No, even though you are the perfectpicture of Jessamine, I can see Tessa through it somehow as if, if I were toscrape away a layer of paint, there would be my Tessa underneath.”“I am not your Tessa either.”The light sparkling in his eyes dimmed. “Fair enough,” he said. “I suppose you are not.
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