Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. Wood—and after him came his daughter. " Out of the beaten track! thought Spurlock. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. A pretty name for a pretty girl. ” Anna was silent.
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