Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. Morgan the trader did not haggle over the pearls, but gave me at once what he judged a fair price. Gerald would not marry her even with a dowry. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. For Ruth grew lovelier as the days went on. This roof is still open to you. She listened, her suspicions confirmed. She had discussed the general question of supplies with the helpful landlady.
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