There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. \" She was surprised that he had noticed her existence as early as her arrival at the Beck house. “It’s a period of crude views and crude work,” said Mr.
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