. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. 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. ” “Is it very beautiful?” “When I saw it there it was very beautiful. Good looks, with a melancholy cast, always drew sentimental females.
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