Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. "There's a guinea to drink our health," she added, slipping a piece of money into his hand. “Was I that bad?” He asked. Now how in the world was he to get rid of the husband? His luck was in. He pushed her back forcefully into her seat with his lips, his body automatically responding to her kiss. Just as he was about to drain it, he encountered the basilisk glance of Jonathan Wild, and paused. Ann Veronica’s appearance was brief and undistinguished. It was impossible.
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