Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. No one in the world is beyond the shaft of scandal— we all catch it terribly sometimes. He rose deliberately to his feet and confronted them. You are my prisoner, murderer. He looked at her with an expression of comical despair. It hardly served his interests. The City worried him a good deal, and what energy he had left over he spent partly in golf, a game he treated very seriously, and partly in the practices of microscopic petrography. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. ” Ten thousand! Put that way it seemed so different. She launched into a stuffy Partita 89 and played it too fast. The scrutiny of any strange man provoked a sweaty terror. But it was very hard to follow.
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