Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. . ’ ‘I swear to you, it is the exact truth,’ he protested. “But why is it preposterous?” asked Ann Veronica, and fiddled with a pipe on the mantel. Melusine’s heart jumped and she felt heat rising into her cheeks. When she spoke, her lips twitched. But you couldn't. “She has nothing to be afraid of,” he continued. He installed Anna in a comfortable easy chair, and placed his own between her and the door.
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