Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. Play fair with her. Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to utter a word. We are alone and we can say and do what we please. I want to be myself. 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.
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