"I have not dealt frankly with you," she said. "Perhaps it is better
that you should know, as you know so much already. I feel that I may
rely on your discretion."
"I think I can keep a secret," I replied, concealing my curiosity.
"I should not tell you if I did not have full confidence." Then she was
silent for a minute. "That man," she continued at last, with a shudder
in her voice, "that man was Mr. Knapp's brother."
I suppressed an exclamation, and she continued:
"They have little in common, even in looks. I wonder you thought for a
moment that he was Mr. Knapp. Few people who know them both have traced
a resemblance."
"Perhaps those who do not know them would be more likely to find the
common points," I suggested. "Members of a family see only the
difference that marks one of them from another. The stranger at first
sees the family type in all and notes the differences later."
"Yes," said Mrs. Knapp. "It's like picking out the Chinamen. At first
they are all alike. We see only the race type. Afterward, we see the
many and marked differences."
"I think," said I, leading back to the main subject, "that the
remarkable circumstances under which I had seen Mr. Lane had a good
deal to do with the illusion. This morning, for the first time, I saw
his face under full light and close at hand."
Mrs. Knapp nodded. Then she continued:
"Mr. Knapp and his brother parted thirty years ago in Ohio. The
brother--the man who has just gone--was younger than Mr.
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