I might as well be at Morningside Park. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill. ‘You should not kiss me at all, and undoubtedly I should kill you. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. “I tell you it was a lie!” he shouted wildly. But no more of that. 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.
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