I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. He will say who it was. . " "I'll bet she still smells to heaven with sour coconut. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. Annabel, I was lying. "There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that. “No doubt about that,” Meddoes continued. ’ ‘Only a few minutes, miss. ” She said.
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