"How romantic! I'd like to see it," I said impulsively.
"Several ladies and gentlemen of society sat for portraits at my studio here and at home."
In short we arranged that he paint my picture and that I should go to his studio, where the light is excellent.
Dresden, July 15, 1902.
I am happy once more. Those hours at Richard's studio are the sweetest of my life.
Lucretia acts the protecting angel as usual. Richard calls her Justice because she is "blind." When she is along, I drive boldly up to the door in one of the court carriages. Sometimes, when I can sneak out of the palace for a little while unobserved, I go alone in a cab.
How long this sort of thing can go on without discovery, I know not. As to what will happen afterwards, I care not.
If I was told that tomorrow I would be caught in my lover's arms and banished to a lone island for life, I would go to his studio just the same.