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Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. Spare him! spare him!" "On one condition I will spare him," returned Wild; "on one condition only. There’s always friction, conflict, unwilling concessions. We'll celebrate that check, and let the rest of the world go hang.
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