Her figure was perfect,—tall, graceful, rounded,—and, then, she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled the stars in lustre. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. If Thames is murdered, you are his assassin. “I want to show you something. Nor was he long in making it available. “Next door,” said a spectacled young person of seventeen or eighteen, with an impatient indication of the direction.
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