Wanda.”
“As my slave” was underlined. I read the note which I received early in
the morning a second time. Then I had a donkey saddled, an animal
symbolic of learned professors, and rode into the mountains. I wanted
to numb my desire, my yearning, with the magnificent scenery of the
Carpathians. I am back, tired, hungry, thirsty, and more in love than
ever. I quickly change my clothes, and a few moments later knock at her
door.
“Come in!”
I enter. She is standing in the center of the room, dressed in a gown
of white satin which floods down her body like light. Over it she wears
a scarlet _kazabaika_, richly edged with ermine. Upon her powdered,
snowy hair is a little diadem of diamonds. She stands with her arms
folded across her breast, and with her brows contracted.
“Wanda!” I run toward her, and am about to throw my arm about her to
kiss her. She retreats a step, measuring me from top to bottom.
“Slave!”
“Mistress!” I kneel down, and kiss the hem of her garment.
“That is as it should be.”
“Oh, how beautiful you are.”
“Do I please you?” She stepped before the mirror, and looked at herself
with proud satisfaction.
“I shall become mad!”
Her lower lip twitched derisively, and she looked at me mockingly from
behind half-closed lids.
“Give me the whip.”