Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. " "As you will," said Jonathan, seating himself. " "I didn't want it," replied Jack; "but who are those gentlemen?" "Friends of yours," replied Figg; "come to see you;—Sir James Thornhill, Mr. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. Jackson and Mr. Everything in the world to live for!—fame that he could not reap, love that he must not take! What was all this pother about hell as a future state? By and by things began to stir on the table: little invisible things. He understood now that it was a part of her inheritance. ‘Whereas my need was very great indeed. “I want a vote for myself,” she said.
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