” She said. She had warned him. 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 are quite right, I think. "Go in, to be sure, simpleton," replied Mrs. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. Her desires were not for riches. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. She could tell that he probably wanted to kiss her, but she did not act upon the opportunity. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. And in that respect they stir up one another. “I’ve been to hear you lots of times.
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