The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. Chapter XIII “HE WILL NOT FORGET!” The external changes in Brendon following on his alteration of fortune were sufficiently noticeable. ” He dared, his nostrils flaring. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes. “We have to be— modern. ” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. ‘It is not possible. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. Then he got up and left her. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. Or felt it.
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