Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing. ’ That wonderful poster—is of you. Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. Guiding this man of hers over the troubled sea of life had engraved these lines. I am quite sure though that they did not mean to be rude. ‘I escape from a fate entirely misérable, you understand. You have somewhere to go to in London, I hope.
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