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. Beyond was a narrow bridge, crossing a circular building, at the bottom of which lay a deep well. You are all that I am or hope to be—the celestial atom God put into me at the beginning. Wary they might be.
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