After the first violent outbreak of grief had in some degree subsided, Thames addressed him. She was unusually pale, and her eyes were brilliant. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. Ben had scarcely adjusted his oars, when the gleam of a lantern was seen moving towards the bank. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother.
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