We had better have it over. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. “The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother. When Mr. White, who held out her hand and beamed a welcome upon him. And she found herself able to do nothing of the sort. He looked at her, his eyes filled with excited terror and astonishment at her move. I’ve got no feminine class feeling.
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