” “I do it—of my own free will,” said Ann Veronica, kissing his hand again. 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. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. The man in me would like to break every bone in your body, but the physician understands that you don't actually realize what you have done. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped. “Anna,” he cried eagerly.
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