remotest way my feeling for her, my complete devotion to her. What
happiness to be her slave!

* * * * *

She calls to me from her balcony. I hurry upstairs. She is standing
on the threshold, holding out her hand in friendly fashion. "I am
ashamed of myself," she says, while I embrace her, and she hides her
head against my breast.

"Why?"

"Please try to forget the ugly scene of yesterday," she said with
quivering voice, "I have fulfilled your mad wish, now let us be
reasonable and happy and love each other, and in a year I will be
your wife."

"My mistress," I exclaimed, "and I your slave!"

"Not another word of slavery, cruelty, or the whip," interrupted
Wanda. "I shall not grant you any of those favors, none except
wearing my fur-jacket; come and help me into it."

* * * * *

The little bronze clock on which stood a cupid who had just shot his
bolt struck midnight.

I rose, and wanted to leave.