Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. I find it impossible to associate you with—my little friend of the ‘Ambassador’s. ’ ‘Where then is your uniform?’ ‘I don’t wear it to balls. He passed but a cursory glance over the formal certificate that identified the Frenchman before him as one André Valade, distant cousin to the Vicomte Valade. His two wives have been here. But she had loved the man.
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