Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. “I knew Miss Pellissier in Paris at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ and I know her now, but I am convinced that there is some mystery in connexion with her change of life. "O lud! what an exquisite box!" cried Edgeworth Bess. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. There was a pint of champagne and a quart of mineral water (both taboo) at his elbow. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished.
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