Admire her as much as you choose—at a distance. “Julian, please wait. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. 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. ‘Hilary was right. “I shall be very glad to have you for a friend,” he said, “loving friend.
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