“The next question, Miss Anna,” he said, “is how am I to help you? I am wholly at your disposal. My name is Annabel, not Anna. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. Pure romantic nonsense on her part. But with returning breath came returning vociferations; and the carpenter, with a faint hope of lessening the clamour by change of scene, took up his lantern, opened the door, and walked out. Thames, look the door. “I don’t think our engagement can go on,” she plunged, and felt exactly that loss of breath that comes with a dive into icy water.
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