Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. “I’m a vampire. ’ ‘Yes, I know,’ Gerald put in with an irrepresssible chuckle. . But all of that was forgotten. Only au revoir. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand.
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