’ Too late he saw his error. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. “You little wretch!” she exclaimed weakly. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. “It is strange that we should have met Annabel,” she said. “How old are you?” “Sixteen. She would look up, shake her head, and then go back to her reading or crewelwork.
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