Page 78 (1/1)

An hour full of tor in the bushes to one side, and they returned

The ht of the la, soft and drea, blond curls

She held out her hand which he kissed with deep respect, then she signaled tothe leafy hich follows the river like a long green screen

The bell at the garden-gate rings It is a familiar face The man from the Cascine

"Whom shall I announce?" I ask him in French He timidly shakes his head

"Do you, perhaps, understand some German?" he asks shyly

"Yes Your name, please"

"Oh! I haven't any yet," he replies, embarrassed--"Tell your mistress the German painter from the Cascine is here and would like-- but there she is herself"

Wanda had stepped out on the balcony, and nodded toward the stranger

"Gregor, show the gentleman in!" she called to me

I showed the painter the stairs

"Thanks, I'll find her now, thanks, thanks verybelow, and looked with deep pity on the poor Gerht his soul in the red snares of hair He will paint her, and gothat looks like gold trembles on the leaves of the clusters of trees down below in the green level of the lorious in their abundant buds Wanda is sitting in the loggia; she is drawing The German painter stands opposite her with his hands folded as in adoration, and looks at her No, he rather looks at her face, and is entirely absorbed in it, enraptured

But she does not see him, neither does she seeover the flower-bed, solely that I may see her and feel her nearness, which produces an effect on one It is a hazardous thing to do, but I risk it I go up to the gallery, quite close, and ask Wanda "Do you love the painter, ry, shakes her head, and finally even smiles

"I feel sorry for him," she replies, "but I do not love him I love no one I used to love you, as ardently, as passionately, as deeply as it was possible for me to love, but now I don't love even you any more; my heart is a void, dead, and this makes me sad"