She felt that perhaps, in her desire to play an adequate part in the conversation, she had talked rather more freely than she ought to have done, and given him a wrong impression of herself. Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old Kanaka woman had said. “Thank you—for coming,” he said. White, my landlady, believes his story. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. CHAPTER II. ” “Have I done something wrong? Should I take you home?” “No. When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her.
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