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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. I wished to control the weather, to possess infinite wealth, and to understand the substances of the earth. No one ate with as much passionate gusto as a teenager could. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. "Ha!" he exclaimed, with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the portrait; "how came this into your possession, boy?" "Why don't you answer, sirrah?" cried Wild, in a savage tone, and striking him with the silver staff. His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes. Rowland," she added, in an altered tone, "I am certain I shall not live many days.

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