Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. Manning told her he loved beauty, and extorted a similar admission from her; he then expatiated upon his own love of beauty. ‘I don’t know that I dare. K-kimble, sir,’ stammered the lad. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. “I’ve gotta go.
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