Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. “You little wretch!” she exclaimed weakly. Once more he was the searcher. Now I require it, only that I may stop this pig from ruining all. A brief description will suffice for them. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms.
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