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 you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. Then he did give way a bit. Martha had been careful to make no mention of Melusine, and did not reply to Mrs Ibstock’s enquiry about the fate of the little babe. Hoddy! All her fears fell away. ‘Why did he make me French, Marthe? Why did he give me this name of Melusine, and say I am born of Suzanne Valade?’ Martha looked at her, but her lips remained firmly closed. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life. "I am come to render you a service. All we have to apprehend is a rescue. Professing to stand between the robber and the robbed, he himself plundered both. Where's Marvel?" "Here, Sir," replied the executioner.
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