Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. ‘She wouldn’t tell me. “Afterwards,” she said, “I should be perfectly content to have everything done for me. ” The sensation produced was gratifying enough. Ramage demurred. In any event, I would not have let her escape me so easily. . Then he put the paper by. “What do you think you are doing?” He asked. “Through there,” he said, and pointed with the pamphlet he was carrying. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning.
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