Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. ’ His face changed, all the humour and tenderness leaving it in an instant. “I haven’t seen the new Patience, dear,” she said. Poe is all right, if you don't mind nightmares. She almost sprang to her feet. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. You were wide the mark, physically; otherwise you had him pat. The rascal will be at work before the morning. ’ ‘That old fool? Why my brother kept him on I shall never know. " "What did I say?" "Only one word," she said, offering her first white lie.
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