Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. I decline to waste a single second even in considering the ugly ones. ‘In that case, he is probably already dead, and you have nothing to worry about. ” “Yet you are very young. "Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. She had killed him. The man looked as though he would have liked to deny it, but could not. “By-the-bye,” he said, presently, “your sister was married to old Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t she? I saw the notice in the papers. Besides, revenge is sweetened by delay; and I indulge too freely in the passion to rob it of any of its zest. Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. In you—if you can love me—there is salvation. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy.
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