Take it, I tell you. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. Her new husband had paid for a cadre of escorts back to Mantua. Wood—and after him came his daughter. Abruptly he gripped her wrist. ’ ‘The Frenchie? I only knows as how Miss says he will ruin everything. co. ’ ‘What heir?’ ‘Exactly. One gets a lot more fun married. If only we are not divided. “No, the only person I told before tonight was my mother and father. “I have the right to be here. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent.
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