‘One of they Frenchies, that’s what I say—if it ain’t a ghost. " So saying, he left the room. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. She would have just to keep the fifteen pounds until she could make it twenty.
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