Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. ” Annabel looked intently into her glass. They were things I had meant very much to talk to you about, so that I went home vexed and disappointed, and only relieved myself a little by writing a few verses. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. ” “Hampstead didn’t suit Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison remarked. She wrapped a leg around him. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence.
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