I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. 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. " "There you're wrong, Mr. “And that only brings me up to about sixty-five! “A glittering wilderness of time That to the sunset reaches No keel as yet its waves has ploughed Or gritted on its beaches.
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