28 August.
My aunt left us this morning. Pani Celina, who went with us to the
studio, could scarcely restrain an exclamation of horror when she saw
Aniela's face on the picture. She has no idea about painting and the
different phases a picture has to go through, and fancied the face
would remain thus. I had to set her mind at rest. Then Angeli, who
guessed what was the matter, laughed and said that what she saw before
her was only the chrysalis, from which the butterfly would come forth
in time.
"I believe it will be one of the best portraits I ever painted," he
said; "for a long time I have not worked so _con amore_."
I hope his words will prove true. After the sitting I went to get
tickets for the opera. When I returned I found Aniela alone, and
suddenly temptation seized me with the force of a hurricane. I thought
if she would come into my arms, now was the moment; and at the very
thought I felt myself growing pale, my pulses beat wildly, I trembled
and caught my breath. The room was in semi-darkness, veiled by heavy
curtains. I made superhuman efforts to conquer the irresistible power
that pushed me towards her. It seemed as if a hot wave emanating from
her enfolded me, and that she too must feel the same storm in her
breast. "I must take her in my arms, kiss her eyes and lips," a voice
within me seemed to say, "though I were to perish for it afterwards.
Pages:
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531