Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. “His back was towards me,” Anna said. Don’t think I can’t sympathize and understand. 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. On his third visit to the island she had surprised him, that is, she had glanced up suddenly and caught the look of the beast in his eyes. She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from.
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