" "This is folly," cried Jack, controlling himself by a powerful effort. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. This I have sworn to do—this I will do. But he would make it a point not to speak again to the girl. ” “Don’t worry yourself. But I am always afraid that he may get in while I am away. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way. He did not love Ruth. I'm safe enough if you hold your tongue.
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