” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. He might go on as the devoted lover until he tired. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. It is so difficult. ‘What the devil for? I’ll have one of the men ride the creature up tomorrow. ” “I will tell her,” Anna promised. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. " "Ah," said Spurlock; "that kind of a man. There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations.
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