Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. We were to live in some wretched London suburb. “Let me introduce you to Caesar,” he said; and she patted Caesar’s neck, and remarked how soft his nose was, and secretly deplored the ugliness of equine teeth. She was in one of her old walking-dresses, her hair was done in an unfamiliar manner, she wore a wedding-ring, and she looked as if she had been crying. “Let me show you something. “I’m not so sure. “You are beautiful, Lucy. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. They were enormously pleased with one another; they found each other beyond measure better than they had expected, if only because of the want of substance in mere expectation. “Your teeth are chattering! I’ll make you some hot chocolate!” Cathy cried. Spurlock. When he finally telegraphed his startling information to Hong-Kong, it was too late for O'Higgins to act. He would know the truth then once and for all. Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped.
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