Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. " "What a strange history is mine!" said Thames. His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. ’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. “He’s got good taste, you know. " "Oh Heavens!" cried Jack, driven to his wits' end. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. It isn’t just one among a number of important things; for her it is the important thing, and until she knows far more than I know of the facts of life, how is she to undertake it? So please; if you will, forget that you wrote that letter, and forgive this answer. "Take care of yourself, then," rejoined Thames, doubling his fists, and advancing towards him: "though my right arm's stiff, I can use it, as you'll find. Let me recommend a glass of wine. ‘So now we come to it.
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