” She implored him. " "I should like to satisfy myself on that score," rejoined Wild, drily. On reflection, it occurred to him that he might, perhaps, be able to loosen the iron fillet; a notion no sooner conceived than executed. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. You're the first widow I ever heard of who could withstand that lure. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly.
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