Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. I found him lying like this, the bleeding partly stopped by this scarf, else he had been dead by now. Lucy found solace in the lack of sunshine, but the November cold was over the top, even for Illinois. Or else I would have finished him. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. Manning relinquished his cup, and looked meaningly at Ann Veronica. Ennison, who had been standing with his back to the window, came suddenly a little further into the room.
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