"
* * * * *
The young painter has established his studio in her villa; he is
completely in her net. He has just begun a Madonna, a Madonna with
red hair and green eyes! Only the idealism of a German would attempt
to use this thorough-bred woman as a model for a picture of
virginity. The poor fellow really is an almost bigger donkey than I
am. Our misfortune is that our Titania has discovered our ass's ears
too soon.
* * * * *
Now she laughs derisively at us, and how she laughs! I hear her
insolent melodious laughter in his studio, under the open window of
which I stand, jealously listening.
* * * * *
"Are you mad, me--ah, it is unbelievable, me as the Mother of God!"
she exclaimed and laughed again. "Wait a moment, I will show you
another picture of myself, one that I myself have painted, and you
shall copy it."
Her head appeared in the window, luminous like a flame under the
sunlight.
"Gregor!"
I hurried up the stairs, through the gallery, into the studio.
"Lead him to the bath," Wanda commanded, while she herself hurried
away.
A few moments passed and Wanda arrived; dressed in nothing but the
sable fur, with the whip in her hand; she descended the stairs and
stretched out on the velvet cushions as on the former occasion. I lay
at her feet and she placed one of her feet upon me; her right hand
played with the whip.
Pages:
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140