Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. She is called Madame Ibstock, you understand. Let us be gone. . But think of the disillusionment! Except for our sex we have minds like men, desires like men. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain.
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