And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. ‘She wants you. Kneebone. Doubts began to rise up all about her, plucking at her confidence. 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. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. What was the matter with the dress? She could not see. “It seems—It’s interesting.
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