Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. Or, after all, is it worth while? The Channel is a little broader than the Boulevards— but one crosses it sometimes. His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. I'd like to shake you until your bones rattled; but the bones of a Roundhead wouldn't rattle to any purpose.
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