Anna sat quite still for a moment, and then the colour suddenly returned to her cheeks. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. Don't shake so. 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. ” “It is ironic that you say that, John, for it is I who am afraid of you.
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