Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. . The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. ’ ‘He let them go?’ asked Miss Froxfield incredulously. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes.
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