. ’ The dagger was in her hand. “You did your best to kill me,” he said. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed.
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