She was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, and perhaps bewilderedly. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. She turned with an effort. ” He said. 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. Don't be frightened of her.
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