I am a little afraid. 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. “No, those are my brother’s dog tags. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. He was holding the ring to the light, and narrowly examining the inscription. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her.
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