And yet she knew it was not fair to call her a foolish girl. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. Of all the entirely English women I know, you’re the only one with a French accent. ‘But—’ ‘Nothing at all for you to worry your head over,’ said the captain, moving to try and usher her forth. " "Surely, you haven't stolen it?" "Stolen's an awkward word.
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