Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. "Ha! say you so? You must be looked to. " "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper. " "Never," replied Sheppard bitterly. The noise was raucous. " The doctor relaxed. But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo. ‘But lay him down. E. ” “But how?” He was, she thought, a little too insistent. There was no one else in the doorway. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words.
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