“Is that you, Nigel?” she asked. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. Out of all this we have struck a sort of harmony. He was always drawing contrasts between a woman’s lot and a man’s, and treating her as a wonderful new departure in this comparison. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. I want to get away. “His stipend forbade it,” she said, and seemed to fall into a train of thought.
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