Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. Both had very singular faces; very odd wigs, very much pulled over their brows; and very large cravats, very much raised above their chins. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. " Spurlock grew limp in his chair. They came teeming distressfully through her aching brain: “A man can kick, his skirts don’t tear; A man scores always, everywhere. My feelings overpower me. " This frankness rather subdued Spurlock.
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