Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. Gazing into each other's eyes with new-found rapture, neither observed the sudden appearance in the doorway of an elderly woman in travel-stained linen. That's my maxim; and it's the maxim of every honest man. The shot had taken effect upon the waterman who rowed the chase. She felt much better. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. ‘Don’t be silly. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. Capes?” she heard her aunt saying. Irreton.
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