She stepped close up to me, cold and contemptuous. As she stood
before me now, the arms folded across her breast, with an evil smile
about her lips, she was in fact the despotic woman of my dreams. Her
expression seemed hard, and nothing lay in her eyes that promised
kindness or mercy.

"Well--" she said at last.

"You are angry," I cried, "you will punish me."

"Oh no!" she replied, "I shall let you go. You are free. I am not
holding you."

"Wanda--I, who love you so--"

"Yes, you, my dear sir, you who adore me," she exclaimed
contemptuously, "but who are a coward, a liar, and a breaker of
promises. Leave me instantly--"

"Wanda I--"

"Wretch!"

My blood rose in my heart. I threw myself down at her feet and began
to cry.

"Tears, too!" She began to laugh. Oh, this laughter was frightful.
"Leave me--I don't want to see you again."