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. Opening her large black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her gaze. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. John, I shall eat that whole tin of sardines. Is it an old ring?” he asked, returning it. Somehow I haven’t connected the idea with you. She studied the face and tried to visualize the body, clothed in the dress which had created the spinsters' astonishment.
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