Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. Returning to the churchyard, he walked round it; and on the western side, near a small yew-tree discovered a new-made grave. They watched the chimpanzees in the new apes’ house, and admired the gentle humanity of their eyes—“so much more human than human beings”—and they watched the Agile Gibbon in the next apartment doing wonderful leaps and aerial somersaults. He took his seat at the table, but leaned forward to address her. The rogue took everything we had. Natives brought him an equal amount from the neighbouring islands. There it is.
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