Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. I don’t think I shall ever care for this bonnet again. But the indecision, which had been fatal to his race, was fatal to him. I met you here as Lady Ferringhall. " The Wastrel laughed. And, mind, it's for his sister, Lady Trafford. Wasn't the river beautiful under the moonlight?" "We did not leave our cabins.
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