Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. “It was,” she admitted. Move. Here was the same Ruth who had left him a few minutes since: the same outwardly; and yet…! On the ninth day Spurlock was up and about; that is, he was strong enough to walk alone, from the companion to his chair, to lean upon the rail when the chair grew irksome, to join Ruth and his employer at lunch and dinner: strong enough to argue about books, music, paintings. ’ ‘Melusine!’ came sharply from the doorway. “If ever you do and I can help you in any way, by advice or inquiry or recommendation—You see, I’m no believer in feminine incapacity, but I do perceive there is such a thing as feminine inexperience. ’ ‘You ain’t never,’ gasped Pottiswick. “May I enquire,” he asked smoothly, “in what way my appearance contributes to your amusement? If there is a joke I should like to share it. Jack was not half your age when he died. ” “As a matter of fact, I happen to have got a little into debt. I would that you were my own. Lucy looked at her reflection with a measure of awe. ” Anna shook her head. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance.
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