“How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. 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. " "You had better write them for me, Mr. ’ ‘Of course you weren’t there,’ snapped Hilary. You are right.
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