Brendon,” Anna said. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. The Jacobite. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. Of course she had often heard sailors hammering out their ditties. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. Them young prigs is all alike. Partly, from your confessor; partly, from other sources. In the circles into which he had been born, the passing on of land was of vital importance. “He was alive at four o’clock this afternoon,” she answered, “but the doctors give little hope of his recovery.
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