You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. There you are! Girl spoilt for life. . ” “How could you!” She exclaimed. —D'ye hear?" Still the widow remained silent. So he resolved to try another tack. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. “And now,” said Ann Veronica surveying her apartment with an unprecedented sense of proprietorship, “what is the next step?” She spent the evening in writing—it was a little difficult—to her father and— which was easier—to the Widgetts. "The men.
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