Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. ‘I do not steal,’ declared the lady hotly. I’ll drive you home once my buzz goes away. " "What do you want me to do?" The doctor thought this query gave hopeful promise. Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals. The smell assaulted them even before they entered the restaurant, greasy and savory. The calvacade was now put slowly in motion.
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