Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. ” “Did it come—in Paris?” “I do not know,” he answered. He would discuss something she had been reading, and he would give her some unexpected angle, setting a fictional character before her with astonishing clearness. “Did you—did you really think that they would take you for a Frenchman?” she exclaimed. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. Teenagers buzzed about her newly discovered talent for the violin in the same sentences as they gossiped about her torrid police scandal and a lost mother who remained in the deep shadows of murder mystery. You wore a blue dress with your hair unbound, and never had I seen a maid so glorious with eyes so blue or a smile so bright. I've opened the case of books.
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