” His eyes were squeezed shut. She was in a very uncritical state that afternoon. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. The dress was her mother's, and she was wearing it to save a little extra money. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly.
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