Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. She felt pride sashay into her thoughts. A shout was heard at a little distance, and, the next moment, a person rushed with breathless haste to the stair-head. On the contrary, he was a universal favourite, and numbered amongst his intimate acquaintances the choicest spirits of the time,—Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, and "all the better brothers. His name was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive as his looks, was that of public executioner. Day before, send round to each to borrow a shirt. But about the unknown Englishman she was not so satisfied. " "Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. Now, she was the very reverse of all this.
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