Sir James Thornhill, then, rose. ’ ‘That’s better. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. Marvel was almost dislodged from his seat on the coffin by a dead dog, which was hurled against him, and struck him in the face.
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