Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. We’ll make short work of them. Anna was more difficult. He knew she would be there, practicing alone in 118. Or was that perhaps because his business in Piccadilly the other day had gone awry? Perhaps Brewis Charvill had not welcomed him with open arms. I have said good-bye to it all. She despises one-piece swimsuits, she calls them ‘old hag bathing dresses’ no matter how low-cut they are.
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