” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. "Rowland, your violence is killing me," she returned, in a plaintive tone. “I think,” he said, “that I would fetch any one whom he has asked to see. "Quick. CHAPTER I.
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