Answering him was agonizing. . “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand. ” “Sorry. She had been fighting down this thought for days: that Hoddy did not care, that he did not love her, that he had mistaken a vagary of the mind for a substance, and now regretted what he had done— married a girl who was not his equal in anything. ‘Léonore, then?’ She shook her head animatedly, enjoying his attention. The rest was easy. It was red and chapped. It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet. “Maybe someday I can look them up again, just to see how they are doing. I had left Paris.
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