Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. From the point of view of most things in the world of employment which a woman can do reasonably well and earn a living by, you’re unripe and half-educated. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear.
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