She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman.
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