She did not know herself. "What did you ring for, Sir?" she asked, eyeing the group with astonishment. 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 more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. The thought of Capes flooded her being like long-veiled sunlight breaking again through clouds. Go to it. " McClintock whistled. This way, Sir Rowland. Were such a thing to happen again, I'd never let Mr.
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