After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. She meditated long and carefully upon her letter to her father before she wrote it, and gravely and deliberately again before she despatched it. " "Let me touch you, then; let me feel if you are really flesh and blood," cried the poor maniac, creeping towards him on all fours. Recurrently she heard: "I don't know; I really don't know. " "You think so, eh?" chuckled Shotbolt, who was eagerly perusing the reward, and congratulating himself upon his caution; "you think so—ha! ha! Well, don't go to bed, that's all.
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