Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. I have nothing, nothing that can possibly be passion for you. Even the basest objects sold in the 24 roadside shops were beautiful in some way. ” “They know you better,” he declared. Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. At the thought of the major, her tears redoubled and she was obliged to rip off a piece from the remnants of her already maltreated underpetticoats with which to blow her nose and soak the damp from her cheeks.
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