One realized indeed then where the differences lay; the tender curves about Anna’s mouth transformed into hard sharp lines in Annabel’s, the eyes of one, truthful and frank, the other’s more beautiful but with less expression—windows lit with dazzling light, but through which one saw—nothing. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. If we were set upon I could not defend you. ” Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door.
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