He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his self-restraint slipping away. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. The great door of the Stone Hall was thrown open, and the sheriffs, preceded by the javelin-men, entered the room. “It’s nothing to what I WILL do. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber.
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