Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. " "Irons—heavy irons—night and day. “Upon my word,” he exclaimed, “this is most extraordinary. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. ” “It offered from fifteen to two-and-twenty shillings a week—for drudgery. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. when I was five.
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