Spurlock bent his head to his knees. She was sore with the perplexities of her preposterous position. He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. ‘Let’s see now. Ed. ‘You were right, miss. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. . The man pulled up. Beautiful is the girl of twelve,—who is neither child nor woman, but something between both, something more exquisite than either! Such was the fairy creature presented to Thames Darrell, under the following circumstances.
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