Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. ’ ‘You mean the bookroom, miss. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. “You yourself have decided that—apart from the question of Annabel. ” “She does it magnificently,” he declared. Jack was not half your age when he died. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. ” Cathy ruffled Lucy’s curly hair. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel.
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