“Give me the whip.” I looked about the room. “No,” she exclaimed, “stay as you are, kneeling.” She went over to the fire-place, took the whip from the mantle-piece, and, watching me with a smile, let it hiss through the air; then she slowly rolled up the sleeve of her fur-jacket. “Marvellous woman!” I exclaimed. “Silence, slave!” She suddenly scowled, looked savage, and struck me with the whip. A moment later she threw her arm tenderly about me, and pityingly bent down to me. “Did I hurt you?” she asked, half-shyly, half-timidly. “No,” I replied, “and even if you had, pains that come through you are a joy. Strike again, if it gives you pleasure.” “But it doesn’t give me pleasure.” Again I was seized with that strange intoxication. “Whip me,” I begged, “whip me without mercy.” Wanda swung the whip, and hit me twice. “Are you satisfied now?” “No.” “Seriously, no?” “Whip me, I beg you, it is a joy to me.” “Yes, because you know very well that it isn’t serious,” she replied, “because I haven’t the heart to hurt you. This brutal game goes against my grain. Were I really the woman who beats her slaves you would be horrified.” “No, Wanda,” I replied, “I love you more than myself; I am devoted to you for death and life. In all seriousness, you can do with me whatever you will, whatever your caprice suggests.” “Severin!” “Tread me underfoot!” I exclaimed, and flung myself face to the floor before her. “I hate all this play-acting,” said Wanda impatiently. “Well, then maltreat me seriously.” An uncanny pause. “Severin, I warn you for the last time,” began Wanda. “If you love me, be cruel towards me,” I pleaded with upraised eyes. “If I love you,” repeated Wanda. “Very well!” She stepped back and looked at me with a sombre smile. _“Be then my slave, and know what it means to be delivered into the hands of a woman.”_ And at the same moment she gave me a kick. “How do you like that, slave?” Then she flourished the whip. “Get up!” I was about to rise. “Not that way,” she commanded, “on your knees.” I obeyed, and she began to apply the lash. The blows fell rapidly and powerfully on my back and arms. Each one cut into my flesh and burned there, but the pains enraptured me. They came from her whom I adored, and for whom I was ready at any hour to lay down my life. She stopped. “I am beginning to enjoy it,” she said, “but enough for to-day. I am beginning to feel a demonic curiosity to see how far your strength goes. I take a cruel joy in seeing you tremble and writhe beneath my whip, and in hearing your groans and wails; I want to go on whipping without pity until you beg for mercy, until you lose your senses. You have awakened dangerous elements in my being. But now get up.” I seized her hand to press it to my lips. “What impudence.” She shoved me away with her foot. “Out of my sight, slave!” * * * * *