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Her laughter is very mysterious, very--I don't know It cannot be described, it takes my breath away I flee further, and after every few steps I have to pause to take breath The h the dark leafy paths, across light open spaces, through the thicket where only single er find my way, I wander about utterly confused, with cold drops of perspiration on the forehead

Finally I stand still, and engage in a short ue

It runs--well--one is either very polite to one's self or very rude

I say to myself: "Donkey!"

This word exercises a reic formula, which sets me free and makes me master of myself

I am perfectly quiet in a moment

With considerable pleasure I repeat: "Donkey!"

Now everything is perfectly clear and distinct before ain There is the fountain, there the alley of box-wood, there the house which I a

Yet--suddenly the appearance is here again Behind the green screen through which the leaain see the white figure, the woman of stone whom I adore, whom I fear and flee

With a couple of leaps I am within the house and catch my breath and reflect

What a donkey?

A sultry , the at Again I a in the Odyssey about the beautiful witch who transformed her admirers into beasts A wonderful picture of antique love

There is a soft rustling in the twigs and blades and the pages of

A woman's dress-She is there--Venus--but without furs--No, this time it is merely the --and yet--Venus-oh, what a woown, looking at race She is neither large, nor s, piquant--in the sense of the period of the French marquises--rather than foruish charm play about her none too small mouth! Her skin is so infinitely delicate, that the blue veins show through everywhere; even through theher arms and bosoolden- yello diabolically and yet tenderly it plays around her neck! Now her eyes reen, these eyes of hers, whose power is so indescribable--green, but as are precious stones, or deep unfathomable mountain lakes