Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. "Jack Sheppard had a visitor, I understand, yesterday, and may make an attempt to escape. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. His client’s story is safe with him. The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes. He has a grand time. She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach.
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