Chapter XXIV A CASE FOR THE POLICE After that first horrible moment it was perhaps Anna who was the more selfpossessed. She was quite assured that she would never see him again. It was 1582. 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. She rapped on Michelle’s door loudly. I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you. "But I can guess what it's for.
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