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 turned to her and pinned her against the headrest with his kisses. " "I mean to say, Sir," answered Mrs. ” “I had to,” she repeated. That's well. “Call me Annabel. At last I tried a dramatic agent, and got on the music hall stage. Good riddance. Sheppard, vainly trying to discover a gleam of compassion in the thief-taker's inexorable countenance,—"Mercy! mercy!" "Pshaw!" rejoined Jonathan. In all other respects they differed as materially.
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