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 terrific mental tension of the past few months —that had held his bodily nourishment in a kind of strangulation—became as a dream; and now his vitals responded rapidly to food and air. But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same. "Search him and iron him afresh;" commanded Jonathan.
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