Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. I want you to be clear what you’re really and truly up to, anyhow. ‘This idiotic female—’ ‘This imbecile has made me—’ ‘—made me lose my temper, and I—’ ‘—cut him with my dagger, and he is—’ ‘—damn near slit her throat!’ ‘—bleeding like a pig!’ ‘Whoa, whoa!’ stormed the captain, starting forward. ‘Yes, that is reasonable. "Rachel," said Mr. Instead, they lived a Bohemian existence, moving from patron to patron, city to city. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire.
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