Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. But I swear she ain’t told me nothing more, sir. ***** From the comatose state, Spurlock passed into that of the babbling fever; but that guarding instinct which is called subconsciousness held a stout leash on his secret. Nothing was given away, and no one came so rich to the stall as to command all that it had to offer. Then for a time she forgot the Fadden affair altogether. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters.
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