Wanda said nothing, but embraced me and drew me back on the ottoman.
She began to kiss me anew, and this silent language was so
comprehensible, so convincing—
And it told me more than I dared to understand.
A languid abandonment pervaded Wanda’s entire being. What a voluptuous
softness there was in the gloaming of her half-closed eyes, in the red
flood of her hair which shimmered faintly under the white powder, in
the red and white satin which crackled about her with every movement,
in the swelling ermine of the _kazabaika_ in which she carelessly
nestled.
“Please,” I stammered, “but you will be angry with me.”
“Do with me what you will,” she whispered.
“Well, then whip me, or I shall go mad.”
“Haven’t I forbidden you,” said Wanda sternly, “but you are
incorrigible.”
“Oh, I am so terribly in love.” I had sunken on my knees, and was
burying my glowing face in her lap.
“I really believe,” said Wanda thoughtfully, “that your madness is
nothing but a demonic, unsatisfied sensuality. _Our unnatural way of
life must generate such illnesses._ Were you less virtuous, you would
be completely sane.”
“Well then, make me sane,” I murmured. My hands were running through
her hair and playing tremblingly with the gleaming fur, which rose and
fell like a moonlit wave upon her heaving bosom, and drove all my
senses into confusion.
And I kissed her. No, she kissed me savagely, pitilessly, as if she
wanted to slay me with her kisses. I was as in a delirium, and had long
since lost my reason, but now I, too, was breathless. I sought to free
myself.
“What is the matter?” asked Wanda.
“I am suffering agonies.”
“You are suffering—” she broke out into a loud amused laughter.
“You laugh!” I moaned, “have you no idea—”
She was serious all of a sudden. She raised my head in her hands, and
with a violent gesture drew me to her breast.
“Wanda,” I stammered.
“Of course, you enjoy suffering,” she said, and laughed again, “but
wait, I’ll bring you to your senses.”
“No, I will no longer ask,” I exclaimed, “whether you want to belong to
me for always or for only a brief moment of intoxication. I want to
drain my happiness to the full. You are mine now, and I would rather
lose you than never to have had you.”
“Now you are sensible,” she said. She kissed me again with her
murderous lips. I tore the ermine apart and the covering of lace and
her naked breast surged against mine.