Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. 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. The tired woman looked up in inquiring silence at Ann Veronica’s diffident entry. She lifted her shoulders in an eloquent shrug.
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