It is way beyond midnight when my mistress's bell sounds for the
last time.
"Fire!" she orders abruptly, and when the fire-place crackles, "Tea!"
When I return with the samovar, she has already undressed, and with
the aid of the negress slipped into a white negligee.
Haydee thereupon leaves.
"Hand me the sleeping-furs," says Wanda, sleepily stretching her
lovely limbs. I take them from the arm-chair, and hold them while she
slowly and lazily slides into the sleeves. She then throws herself
down on the cushions of the ottoman.
"Take off my shoes, and put on my velvet slippers."
I kneel down and tug at the little shoe which resists my efforts.
"Hurry, hurry!" Wanda exclaims, "you are hurting me! just you wait--I
will teach you." She strikes me with the whip, but now the shoe is
off.
"Now get out!" Still a kick--and then I can go to bed.
* * * * *
To-night I accompanied her to a soiree. In the entrance-hall she
ordered me to help her out of her furs; then with a proud smile,
confident of victory, she entered the brilliantly illuminated room.
I again waited with gloomy and monotonous thoughts, watching hour after
hour run by. From time to time the sounds of music reached me, when
the door remained open for a moment. Several servants tried to start
a conversation with me, but soon desisted, since I knew only a few
words of Italian.
Pages:
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123