One day it was gone. A dreamy sense of content crept over him. Earles closed the piano with a little bang. She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness. 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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