They could no longer stay in one place. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. "And I'll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it over with. Promise me. Why, honestly enouch. He must preserve it, however, as they preserved the Ark of the Covenant. 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 afraid,” he said gravely, “that your sister has been a little indiscreet.
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