But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. Wonderful! The water, dripping from you, must have looked like pearls. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles.
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