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Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. ‘That’s what started the fracas,’ Gerald admitted ruefully, nursing his injured hand as he recalled it. "Are you hurt, Thames?" asked Jack, anxiously. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. Come along, master. Let us stay the night here. But Michelle’s heart seemed to grow fonder to the subject proportionally to Lucy’s avoidance of it. “Where is my beautiful wife?” He bellowed from the downstairs. I’d need to be out of my senses. Where is he?" "Here," answered Jack. I said I knew he disliked and distrusted you and your work—that you shared all Russell’s opinions: he hates Russell beyond measure—and that we couldn’t possibly face a conventional marriage. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse. ‘Who has begun this but you?’ Gerald barely heard her. "Otherwise you will not get your morning's sleep. "I'm sure he won't attempt to prevent me," rejoined Thames.
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