Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. But she no longer felt Jacomo’s age, even if she looked it. Here and there, patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank dripping hair hanging about what had once been the face, gave it a ghastly appearance. " "You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey. When things are at the worst, they'll mend. He kissed her fingers and grinned.
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