. She didn’t choose her man. E. Her lips were dry and cracked. I worshipped women long before I found any woman I might ever hope to worship. 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. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended.
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