. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. She moaned as his lips caressed her neck, almost to where the dress met her shoulder.
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