Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. We have known men who have come here for no other purpose than to prove their unassailable virtue, who have strode into the arena of temptation, waving the—the what is it—the white flower of a blameless life, only to exchange it with marvellous facility for the violets of the Parisienne. Her father intercepted her, and for a moment she and he struggled with their hands upon the latch.
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