She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. So here is your chance, Mademoiselle Charvill. Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!” Annabel looked around her nervously. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. I mean that the point is that vividness of perception is the essential factor of beauty; but, of course, vividness may be created by a whisper. This had well nigh been the case with the carpenter. Mind, I am anticipating events. .
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