” Chapter XIV “THIS IS MY WIFE” Anna, notwithstanding her momentary fright in the middle of the day, was in high spirits. “She wasn’t sane, my wife. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. By the time she was done, the bodies in the bathtub were gathering flies. Lucy stole her last chance to observe Martin Chen, looking provocatively into his 257 eyes as the door was shut. The stench was cheese-like and unbearable and Lucy dry-heaved. "What's the matter?" he cried. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. Forgive me?” She pleaded. The very sight of these impediments, would have appalled a less courageous spirit than Sheppard's—but nothing could daunt him. Strange, demure-looking young woman, with wonderful complexion and eyes, and a style about her, too.
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