Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. ” Annabel gave a little gasp. ’ Jack Kimble took a deep breath. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then.
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