Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. . “I do not blame him. My will never faltered. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. He was apt to play so many games, she was afraid she might have misunderstood. “After all,” she said, “if this person will not be reasonable, I am afraid——” It was enough. . ” “I can’t imagine what makes you fly out against everything like this,” said Miss Stanley to her niece. "By the way," said the doctor, as he sat down in the dining room of the Victoria and ordered tea, "I've been thinking it over.
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