Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. A slow heavy thumping started up in Melusine’s chest, and she scarcely took in the astonished silence in those present in the room. “You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else. ’ ‘And why are you not married,’ she demanded suddenly, ‘if it is that you have land?’ Gerald grimaced. “Well,” she admitted. Husbands and wives, young lovers, and mothers with strollers thronged in the streets, all savoring the fine cool weather. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. Sure, I lose one occasionally—if he stays in New York. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes.
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