She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest. 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. And girls and women, perhaps, are different. She hoped fervently that Martin had not divulged his crush to Brown. I thought he was in Newgate. ” “Daddy,” said Ann Veronica, “these affairs—being away from home has— cost money.
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