Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. ‘Jacques?’ she called. His hand went with an almost instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again. And you talk like that! What the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast at random. “I have been amusing myself up to now by trying to earn my living,” she replied. For awhile he watched the revolving light on Copeley's.
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