Leon.--I think that the fancies of a society woman are indeed
inexplicable, and do not look like jokes at all.

Jadwiga.--This question has two sides! The first is the formal side
and it shows itself thus: Mme. Jadwiga Karlowiecka most earnestly asks
the great painter Leon to make her portrait. That is all! The painter
Leon, who, it is known, paints lots of portraits, has no good reason
for refusing. The painter cannot refuse to make a portrait any more
than a physician can refuse his assistance. There remains the other
side--the past. But we agreed that it is a forbidden subject.

Leon.--Permit me, madam--

Jadwiga (interrupting).--Pray, not a word about the past. (She
laughs.) Ah, my woman's diplomacy knows how to tie a knot and draw
tight the ends of it. How your embarrassment pleases me. But there is
something quite different. Let us suppose that I am a vain person,
full of womanly self-love; full of petty jealousy and envy. Well, you
have painted the portrait of Mme. Zofia and of Helena. I wish to have
mine also. One does not refuse the women such things. Reports of your
fame come to me from all sides. I hear all around me the words: "Our
great painter--our master!" Society lionizes you. God knows how many
breasts sigh for you. Every one can have your works, every one can
approach you, see you, be proud of you. I alone, your playmate, your
old friend, I alone am as though excommunicated.

Leon.--But Mme. Jadwiga--

Jadwiga.--Ah, you have called me by my name. I thank you and beg your
pardon. It is the self-love of a woman, nothing more. It is my nerves.