Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. “Your father is in the study and wishes to speak to you. They all left the room. ‘I do not steal,’ declared the lady hotly. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. Her eyes were insane with rage, crusted with yellow and green, only beginning to heal from her long sojourn underground.
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