Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. What had she so nearly said? She had almost spoken a name—and quickly withdrawn it. He paid the cab, and turned to follow her. “Hola, Michelle. Montague Hill. ’ So saying, he pulled her forward, slipping her arms about his back. “Quite right,” she said. For you know that I have made up my mind to dig a little way into life single-handed. " "Faix, then we'll do it in style," cried the fellow.
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