Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. ” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. The thought did not occur to her, for all thought had flown out of her head. After all, why need one look down.
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