Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. O'Higgins was all that the doctor had imagined a detective to be: a bulky policeman in civilian clothes. Brute! Fool! To have come to her on such an errand. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. Dutch; Pennsylvania Dutch. ’ ‘Yes, and leave you to break in on your own. "I've said it," rejoined Jonathan, peremptorily.
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