Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. Just now my best ones are all taken. And it filled seven sheets of notepaper, each written only on one side. Ann Veronica found herself in the presence of the most disconcerting fact in human experience, the kindliness of people you believe to be thoroughly wrong. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. “You!” said Ann Veronica. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. Warding off the blows as well as he could with the bar, Jack struck both the horses on the head, and the animals plunged so violently, that they not only prevented their riders from assailing him, but also kept off the hostlers; and, in the confusion that ensued, Jack managed to spring over the fence, and shaped his course across the field in the direction of Sir John Oldcastle's.
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