In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. 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. "Sir Cecil is no more.
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