Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. Jack was so harrassed that he felt half inclined to stand at bay. But I am sick of tearing up letters and hopeless of getting what I have to say better said. "Here he is, waterman," exclaimed the benevolent carpenter. “I didn’t understand, Vee.
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