Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. ” Ann Veronica closed the door quite softly and stood still. Each was draped in transparent silk, dancing, beckoning to me, teasing me. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness. .
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