Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. It consisted of a close jerkin of brown frieze, ornamented with a triple row of brass buttons; loose Dutch slops, made very wide in the seat and very tight at the knees; red stockings with black clocks, and a fur cap. Lucy could see Diane’s clear dislike of her, the foster background she had come from, and the single mysterious episode with the police that had inflamed the gossips from all the corners of town. ’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. And I’m off to America, and if my steamer goes to the bottom of the Atlantic I’ll thank the Lord for it. “Oh, much better. . .
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