You couldn’t help it. 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. She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door.
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