CHAPTER XLVII
LOVE'S INTERMEZZO
Bernhardt takes advantage of my day-dreams—My husband's indolent gaucherie—Violent love-making—Ninon who loved families, not men—Does Bernhardt really love me?
Loschwitz, April 10, 1901.
Fortunately Bernhardt came for a few days to relieve the monotony of my alcove life par le droit du plus fort.
Tall stories of dissipation, indiscipline, scandal, had preceded the poor fellow. No doubt, his military superiors got orders to make his life as unhappy as they possibly can, and he retaliates.
The Prince told me that, at last, he had succeeded arranging for an audience with the King. His Majesty had denied himself to Bernhardt for months past. He managed the coveted boon only by the intervention of various high generals and the threat to appeal to the Kaiser.
The Royal House of Saxony, while compelled to recognize William as War-Lord, doesn't court his interference, or attempted interference, in matters military.
Flushed with this initial success and expecting lots of good things in the future, Bernhardt was bent upon having a good time. He drank with Frederick Augustus, made love to Lucretia and squeezed the chambermaids on his floor to his heart's content.
To me he was the most gallant of cousins and, glad to contribute to the happiness of the poor fellow, I gave him plenty of rope, perhaps too much.