Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. “It jars. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. Her attenuated arms were crossed upon her breast; and her black brows and eyelashes contrasted fearfully with the livid whiteness of her skin. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. ” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips. Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture. The veranda bamboo will be enough for me.
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