" "Who's lost?" demanded Ireton. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. It ceased to be the symbol of liberty and a remote and quite abstracted person, and became suddenly and very disagreeably the token of a large and portentous body visible and tangible. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand. “You met no one upon the stairs, or saw no one leave the flats?” “No one,” Anna answered firmly. Don't you understand? Back among your own again, and only a few of us the wiser.
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