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. But whither The Tigress was bound or who the owner was lay beyond the reach of Ah Cum's deductions. Indeed it was apparent, from the likeness between them, that they were nearly related. "Who are the others?" "Let me see.
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