“Still closer,” she looked down, and stroked the sable with her hand.
“Venus in Furs receives her slave. I can see that you are more than an
ordinary dreamer, you don’t remain far in arrears of your dreams; you
are the sort of man who is ready to carry his dreams into effect, no
matter how mad they are. I confess, I like this; it impresses me. There
is strength in this, and strength is the only thing one respects. I
actually believe that under unusual circumstances, in a period of great
deeds, what seems to be your weakness would reveal itself as
extraordinary power. Under the early emperors you would have been a
martyr, at the time of the Reformation an anabaptist, during the French
Revolution one of those inspired Girondists who mounted the guillotine
with the marseillaise on their lips. But you are my slave, my—”
She suddenly leaped up; the furs slipped down, and she threw her arms
with soft pressure about my neck.
“My beloved slave, Severin, oh, how I love you, how I adore you, how
handsome you are in your Cracovian costume! You will be cold to-night
up in your wretched room without a fire. Shall I give you one of my
furs, dear heart, the large one there—”
She quickly picked it up, throwing it over my shoulders, and before I
knew what had happened I was completely wrapped up in it.
“How wonderfully becoming furs are to your face, they bring out your
noble lines. As soon as you cease being my slave, you must wear a
velvet coat with sable, do you understand? Otherwise I shall never put
on my fur-jacket again.”
And again she began to caress me and kiss me; finally she drew me down
on the little divan.
“You seem to be pleased with yourself in furs,” she said. “Quick,
quick, give them to me, or I will lose all sense of dignity.”
I placed the furs about her, and Wanda slipped her right arm into the
sleeve.
“This is the pose in Titian’s picture. But now enough of joking. Don’t
always look so solemn, it makes me feel sad. As far as the world is
concerned you are still merely my servant; you are not yet my slave,
for you have not yet signed the contract. You are still free, and can
leave me any moment. You have played your part magnificently. I have
been delighted, but aren’t you tired of it already, and don’t you think
I am abominable? Well, say something—I command it.”
“Must I confess to you, Wanda?” I began.
“Yes, you must.”
“Even if you take advantage of it,” I continued, “I shall love you the
more deeply, adore you the more fanatically, the worse you treat me.
What you have just done inflames my blood and intoxicates all my
senses.” I held her close to me and clung for several moments to her
moist lips.
“Oh, you beautiful woman,” I then exclaimed, looking at her. In my
enthusiasm I tore the sable from her shoulders and pressed my mouth
against her neck.
“You love me even when I am cruel,” said Wanda, “now go!—you bore
me—don’t you hear?”
She boxed my ears so that I saw stars and bells rang in my ears.
“Help me into my furs, slave.”