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. The curve of his shoulders, the very angle of his feet, expressed relief at her apparent obedience. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor. It had gone with the rest. He stabbed into her with brute force.
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