He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence. 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. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. . Never in this world! Let the hotel people take care of him; it's their affair. McClintock's astonishment merged into a state of mild hypnosis. She still kicked herself for it. Towards this box Sharples directed his steps, and, unlocking a hatch in the door, disclosed a recess scarcely as large, and certainly not as clean, as a dog-kennel.
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