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. “You too were deceived. She drank it obediently. “Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. ” Mike said as he opened the door. She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love.
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