Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. You, for instance, you live, you are not afraid to live. ” “I have heard of the Fabians,” said Ann Veronica. “Oh, damn!” he said. . “You will go and see her,” he begged. ” He saw her into the train at Waterloo, and stood, a tall, grave figure, with hat upraised, as the carriage moved forward slowly and hid him.
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