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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. He grew more ardent, sliding her breasts out of the strapless bodice of her gown. ‘Merci, Joan,’ cried Melusine, moving to her and seizing her hand which she clasped between both her own for a moment, as she turned to the others. She could feel Martin’s eyes boring into her as she entered the room, her own personal Farhat. “What do you mean, Annabel? You only knew Mr. Mr. E. Friday was not a big dinner night at the Beck house.
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