She looked about and discovered a door partially hidden by shadow. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. “He wants to settle something on you, I believe. 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. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. All three, then, burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. "Do you hear me?" cried the lady, with increasing vehemence.
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