For a time she promenaded the room. ‘There were the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme. Mirrors. You might get faint, but you can fight it. 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. “Because you used to be my friend, Lucy, and now I don’t get to see you anymore unless I can get into your house. ‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend. At least for one moment, it was. "Till then, I shall remain content," returned Wild.
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