It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. It was enough. 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. That's the job. " Thames hastily cast his eyes over it, and transferred it, with a look of incredulity, to Wood. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. " "Mr. She pointed suddenly at the portrait.
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