He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. ‘Ah, yes? To what do I pretend?’ ‘That,’ Gerald said regretfully, ‘I have not yet been able to fathom. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. Perhaps in the beginning the women made fools of themselves over him. The papers are continually wondering what has become of ‘Alcide. The more she disentangled the lines of her situation the deeper grew her self-disgust. Go on.
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