Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. The Denunciation VI. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. I have tried taking a little blood from various donors. . . ” “Personally,” he went on, “I must confess to a great disappointment. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle. I am dreadfully sad.
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