“It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. “What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. He had, for the most part, been correct. Here we are absconding, pretending to be what we are not; shady, to say the least of it. The soldiers! They must not find her here. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles.
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