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. Chapter IV
THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST
“You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna
said lightly. “Come, daddy,” said Ann Veronica, following her husband and Miss Stanley;
and in the fulness of her heart she gave a friendly squeeze to the parental arm. And, though neither peace nor
innocence can be restored to my bosom; though tears cannot blot out my
offences, nor sorrow drown my shame; yet, knowing that my penitence is
sincere, I do not despair that my transgressions may be forgiven. Permit me to introduce myself. The child was now
within reach; and, in another moment, he would have executed his deadly
purpose, if an arm from behind had not felled him to the ground. You do not know him. You go cheer him up.
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