C. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. ’ ‘No. 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. ‘Can’t you trust me a little?’ His touch sent shivers running through her, but Melusine did not withdraw her hand. “I am afraid that you are making a mistake,” she said.
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