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And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. Let us have no more of this humbug. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. ‘Not care? For this he must be an Englishman tout à fait sympathique, and— and I know only. It was a grand life. . Place a pistol at my ear, and shoot me, if I've told you false. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. John picked it up and put it in her hands. Not Trodger.
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