“Ugh!” she said. “Ever yours, “ANNABEL. She looked away. I never had even a real doll," she added, as she snuggled the flea-bitten head to her heart. " "Conduct me to your dwelling, Sir, without further delay," said Trenchard, sternly,—"to the boy. Be frank, I beg you, Miss Pellissier. If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending.
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