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Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. ‘Hates doing the pretty. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. Most unsatisfactory. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. Wood fared still worse. “Are you going on again this winter with that scientific work of yours? It’s an instance of heredity, I suppose. But if he speaks—I fear what he may tell. We’ll make short work of them. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. Did he talk a little when you took him into the city?" "No. I told him instantly and shamelessly that the play was going to be worth ten thousand pounds. It’s to do with adolescence. "Thank you; but I've a pocket full of water-chestnuts.
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