Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. Then she had a baby and became as old as any really grown-up person, or older, and very dull. The recollection was too painful, and he burst into an agony of tears. Never really thought about Him—people don’t. He daren't quarrel with me: and if he does, let him look to himself. It isn’t pretty, but we’re made so. “Now I should like to know,” she said, looking at him with a quiet smile, “what you are doing here? It is not a particularly inspiring neighbourhood for walking about by yourself. “Look here, daddy,” she said, in a tone of great reasonableness, “I MUST go to that dance, you know.
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