Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white. Nice position. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. She slipped past the servants, her soft roe-skin shoes unheard on the old stone.
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