He smiled. The bridge was open. They were the only real marriages she had seen clearly. Afterward he stole out of the room with the bloodstained sheet to boast her virginity to his brothers and father, which only truly mattered because she was beautiful, her mother had said. " Some order. “You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be. She knew Martha would not ask anything that she did not wish to know. 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. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded.
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