Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. Then he was to arrest you and bring you home to me. It’s so different from what one has been led to expect. There are certain smells, certain tinges to the air. Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse. In this cell was a huntsman, who had fractured his skull while hunting, and was perpetually hallooing after the hounds;—in that, the most melancholy of all, the grinning gibbering lunatic, the realization of "moody madness, laughing wild. I can’t even make myself care. I have a hundred of them—mixed blood—on my island, and they are always rooking me. Ann Veronica was by this time quite shocked at her own thoughts, and yet they would go on with their freaks. These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. This fruit was McClintock's particular pride. With this she now entered. He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself.
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