Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. He was human. “Useless—worse than useless. You cannot do a murder and expect that you will not be punished. "Can't you see? I can't hurt her, if … if she cares! I can't tell her I'm a madman as well as a thief!… What a fool! What a fool!" A thief. "You hesitate—you are deceiving me. Anna made things for her. I met a Hindu a few weeks ago who was a Harvard man. “Well, if I find your conversation interesting I shall listen. "Here, take this and get the letter and open and read it. I proceeded to Manchester, to investigate the matter further, and when there ascertained, beyond a doubt, that you were the eldest daughter of Sir Montacute Trenchard. "He can't escape. And, for a man who'll never see sixty again, he's in excellent preservation, I assure you. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. I'm heading for bed.
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