“You must send for the police at once, you know. But to go courting a slave-girl, at the risk of physical hurt! A shudder of distaste wrinkled her shoulders. Please yourself. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. She, having all the confidence in the world, ripped off an end and drew out the contents—a letter and a check. He hated horizons.
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