“DEAR MR. 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. He gave an order, the proa was floated and the sail run up. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. Anyhow he confessed that he was a fraud. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. "I fear not," replied Jack, despondingly. Mr. ‘See that writing table? Go and look in the drawer there. She could hear the bell tinkle as the horse shook its head. This time there wasn't any doubt. “Mine is a primitive and unstudied manner. ” “You have not told me yet,” Annabel said, “how it is that you have dared to personate me.
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