Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. “If you think it worth while,” she answered doubtfully. I have but to give a hint of that boy's existence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be worth a day's purchase. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. I didn't understand then, but I do now. “Beasts!” But Miss Miniver took no notice of his admission. I suppose you have come to see your granddaughter.
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