"Whichever you please," she answered. "Both performances would no
doubt be works of art!"

"What do you mean?"

"Can you not understand? If you paint my picture it will be a work
of art. If you make love to me it will equally be a work of art:
that is, a composed thing--an elaborate study."

"Bah! Love is not a composed thing," said Gervase, leaning closer
to her. "It is wild, and full of libertinage as the sea."

"And equally as fickle," added the Princess composedly, taking a
fan of feathers near her and waving it to and fro. "Man's idea of
love is to take all he can get from a woman, and give her nothing
in return but misery sometimes, and sometimes death."

"You do not,--you cannot think that!" said Gervase, looking at her
dazzling face with a passion of admiration he made no attempt to
conceal. "Men on the whole are not as cruel or as treacherous as
women. I would swear, looking at you, that, beautiful as you are,
you are cruel, and that is perhaps why I love you! You are like a
splendid tigress waiting to be tamed!"

"And you think you could tame me?" interposed Ziska, looking at
him with an inscrutable disdain in her black eyes.

"Yes, if you loved me!"