He saw rifts in clouds—sunshine. He seemed to avoid meeting Anna’s eyes as much as possible. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. “Begin violence, and the woman goes under. You look very handsome. My motive in coming hither is to serve you, and save your life. I watched you wait at the farmhouse! But I couldn’t compromise your safety! You must have realized that!” She lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “Who, me? I scare you?” He asked.
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