But you shall swing, rascal,—you shall swing. You shall lie upon your back; your head shall be covered; and your feet shall be bare. 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. At the gate opening upon the road leading to Dollis Hill were stationed William Morgan and John Dump. And he liked her. The stranger started at the touch, and spoke.
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