Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. ’ ‘I don’t know,’ confessed Gerald. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. “How old are you?” “Sixteen. I didn’t understand. Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street. Which was not to say that ladies were not interested in him.
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