She unlaced his pants and slid them down his hips, examining him as he stood before her naked. Sheppard's dress—extremely neat and clean, but simply fashioned, and of the plainest and most unpretending material,—offered nothing assailable; and her demeanour was so humble, and her looks so modest, that—if she had been ill-looking—she might, possibly, have escaped the shafts of malice preparing to be levelled against her. Her sister had told him that it was true. Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. Now, will you do me the honour of lunching with me, Miss Pellissier?” Anna hesitated. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. It is your own choice, isn’t it?” She nodded. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance.
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