Sometimes ships would stop three or four days for water and repairs; and the men would carouse in the back room at Morgan's. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. I can't run in these heavy fetters. Then she would be dead, and that was no use. There were words, then, that ran on indefinitely, with reversals? Here they meant one thing; there, the exact opposite. 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. There’s no logic in these things.
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