‘Oh, peste. ” They remained looking at each other for three or four seconds. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. 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. I am not sure, but I believe that he has just thought of something. " "You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland, moodily.
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