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 are the species, and maternity is our game; that’s all right, but nobody wants that admitted for fear we should all catch fire, and set about fulfilling the purpose of our beings without waiting for further explanations. I never realized how fabulous all those homemade dishes were. I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. “It spreads like wildfire. Mama will be expecting me.
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