everyone knows and feels how closely sexual love and cruelty are
related."

"But in my case all these elements are raised to their highest
degree," I replied.

"In other words, reason has little power over you, and you are by
nature, soft, sensual, yielding."

"Were the martyrs also soft and sensual by nature?"

"The martyrs?"

"On the contrary, they were _supersensual men,_ who found enjoyment in
suffering. They sought out the most frightful tortures, even death
itself, as others seek joy, and as they were, so am I--_supersensual."_

"Have a care that in being such, you do not become a martyr to love,
the _martyr of a woman_."

We are sitting on Wanda's little balcony in the mellow fragrant
summer night. A twofold roof is above us, first the green ceiling of
climbing-plants, and then the vault of heaven sown with innumerable
stars. The low wailing love-call of a cat rises from the park. I am
sitting on footstool at the feet of my divinity, and am telling her
of my childhood.

"And even then all these strange tendencies were distinctly marked
in you?" asked Wanda.