The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. It would be swindling. How dreary it all looks. “Stop me if there is anything you want to watch.
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