I promised, for, after all, I owed so much to the King and my children.
Alas, it was fate!
Dresden, July 1, After Midnight.
He is tall, well made, and his wild, Grecian eyes fascinate me. He is conscious of self, but modest. His voice is sweet and sonorous, his eyes are bright with intellect. Speaking eyes!
I asked him to visit my apartments at the conclusion of school hours. He told me he was a painter as well as a teacher of languages.
"Would you like to paint me?"
"I am dying for a chance to reproduce your loveliness as far as my poor art permits."
He told me he had a studio in town, where he is known under his artist's pseudonyme, Richard.