"You'd have hit it off better if you'd called her The Sow. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. The little room was fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences of well being. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck.
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