Jadwiga.—­Let us play then (after a while).  Ah!  How many changes!  I cannot comprehend.  If two years ago some one had told me that to-day we would sit far apart from each other, and chat as we do, and look at each other with watchful curiosity, like two people perfectly strange to each other, I could not have believed.  Truly, it is utterly amusing!

Leon.—­It would not be proper for me to remind you of our agreement.

Jadwiga.—­But nevertheless you do remind me.  Thank you.  My nerves are guilty for this melancholy turn of the conversation.  But I feel it is not becoming to me.  But pray be assured that I shall not again enter that thorny path, if for no other reason than that of self-love.  I, too, amuse myself as best I can, and I return to my reminiscences only when wearied.  For several days I have been greatly wearied.

Leon.—­Is that the reason why you asked me to come here?  I am afraid that I will not be an abundant source of distraction.  My disposition is not very gay, and I am too proud, too honest, and—­too costly to become a plaything.  Permit me to leave you.

Jadwiga.—­You must forgive me.  I did not mean to offend you.  Without going back to the past, I can tell you that pride is your greatest fault, and if it were not for that pride, many sad things would not have happened.

Leon.—­Without going back to the past, I must answer you that it is the only sail which remained on my boat.  The others are torn by the wind of life.  If it were not for this last sail, I should have sunk long ago.

Jadwiga.—­And I think that it was a rock on which has been wrecked not only your boat—­but no matter!  So much the worse for those who believed in fair weather and a smooth sea.  We must at least prevent ourselves from now being carried where we do not wish to sail.

Leon.—­And where the sandy banks are sure—­

Jadwiga.—­What strange conversation!  It seems to me that it is a net, in which the truth lies at the bottom, struggling in vain to break the meshes.  But perhaps it is better so.

Leon.—­Much better.  Madam, you have written me that you wished to see me on an important matter.  I am listening.

Jadwiga.—­Yes (smiling).  It is permitted a society woman to have her fancies and desires—­sometimes inexplicable fancies, and it is not permitted a gentleman to refuse them.  Well, then, I wished to see my portrait, painted by the great painter Leon.  Would you be willing to paint it?

Leon.—­Madam—­

Jadwiga.—­Ah! the lion’s forehead frowns, as if my wish were an insult.

Leon.—­I think that the fancies of a society woman are indeed inexplicable, and do not look like jokes at all.

Jadwiga.—­This question has two sides!  The first is the formal side and it shows itself thus:  Mme. Jadwiga Karlowiecka most earnestly asks the great painter Leon to make her portrait.  That is all!  The painter Leon, who, it is known, paints lots of portraits, has no good reason for refusing.  The painter cannot refuse to make a portrait any more than a physician can refuse his assistance.  There remains the other side—­the past.  But we agreed that it is a forbidden subject.