Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. “How unkind!” she exclaimed. Mr. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut; and at nine, the jail was altogether locked up. She wanted to take him in her arms and hush him, but she sat perfectly still. " "Iss, Massa Ireton," replied the black.
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