Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. ‘But don’t let me stop you from going to see Charvill. This last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers. Or was that perhaps because his business in Piccadilly the other day had gone awry? Perhaps Brewis Charvill had not welcomed him with open arms. He brought into service all his Oriental bar-room tricks. Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. Why aren’t you folded up clean in lavender—as every young woman ought to be? What have you been doing with yourself?. But it doesn’t alter the situation. But I am not worthy to be any man's wife —far less his wife. Would you like me to take one for you?\" \"Nah. "The key," replied the widow.
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