Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. " With this, he drew the spike from his pocket; and, drowning the sound of the operation by whistling, singing, shuffling, and other noises, contrived, in a few minutes, to liberate his companion from the handcuffs. “No,” she answered, reluctantly. She told you —the truth.
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