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. He stared at her stupidly, forgetting to guard against the tactics he had come to expect from her. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. “Mr. . ’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am.
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