Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. "Sold again!" "If you don't get back quickly, Lucy," observed a bystander, "Jack Sheppard will be in the house before you.
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