148 “Sure. ” She taunted. ” “The real, identical other,” said Capes, and took and bit the tip of her little finger. She was too late. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. I will do all this not because I love you, but—because you are Anna’s sister. ” “Quite true,” she answered briskly, “and thanks to you I have succeeded. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty. Her shoulders began to ache.
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