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. They heard voices inside but stood for a full thirty seconds looking at each other. Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and could not sufficiently exult over the prisoner. I know that in my heart I would take whatever he gave. "Mercy on us! Well, I thought their manners quite out o' the common. I'm sorry. They're gone into the next room. For all that she was of exceptional intellectual enterprise, she had never yet considered these things with unaverted eyes.
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