“I don’t see there’s any getting away from the fact that you and I love each other,” he said, slowly. But he afterwards acted upon the suggestion. God knows how you did it. Not all of us, but some of us. Don’t you care for Nigel at all?” Anna was silent for a moment or two. Saws, hammers, planes, axes, augers, adzes, chisels, gimblets, and an endless variety of tools were ranged, like a stand of martial weapons at an armoury, in racks against the walls. It was easy to discern Gianfrancesco’s mood. It was from Brendon. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly.
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