“I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. ” “Does she have to sell her soul to the Devil?” Lucy asked, feeling stupid. ‘Anyhow, never mind that now. She was almost tempted to tell him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break the immobility of his yellow countenance. A loud buzz of curiosity circulated among the domestics; some of whom— especially the females—leaned forward to obtain a peep at the culprit. Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. I don’t care if you never tell me any of your secrets. ” He coughed gently.
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