Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. He passed his arm under that of the constable, and drew him aside. He smiled. She would then partially recall the items that she had heard about him, presenting each at the angle that was the most likely to inflict pain. "You're right Jack," he said, after a pause, during which he contemplated the picture with the most fixed attention: "this must have been my father!" "No doubt of it," answered Sheppard; "only compare it with Winny's drawing, and you'll find they're as like as two peas in a pod.
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