“Michelle, I think that you are the victim of an extremely overactive imagination. It was not a difficult affair. The evil in his eyes towards her was explosive. Her heart full of dread, she dragged on it. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. . . I believed I was strong enough to go on in silence; but I'm human like everybody else. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. “Anything is better than this—this stifled life down here.
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