Gerald’s judgement was borne out a moment later. ‘Who’s this, then? Not soldiers again. "I thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. We men are like children.
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