He seemed to find keen pleasure in the possibility of forcing the two into a position which would cause them suffering and weaken the barriers of self-control they had built up around that boy and girl love that had come back so vividly to both. Had they regarded him as merely human it is certain that Karl would have kicked this cynical being out of the studio, with his infernal innuendoes. But there was something supernormal about him. He dominated both the artist and the wife, and they were completely under his spell, struggle as they would to break it. Olga shrank from the cruelty of their tormentor.
"If this is a jest it is a cruel one," she cried.
"True, madam. But there is another way. If you wish it I can be quite truthful. Should your husband arrive I can tell him the portrait has not been touched and ask his pardon."
"Pardon for what?"
"For having seen your shoulders."
"This is a trap," Olga cried, turning toward Karl for protection. "What do you want? You overwhelm me with false insinuations. I hardly know you five minutes, and I imagine I feel your long fingers at my throat."
"Other pretty women do not feel them quite so soon," he murmured, bending toward her.
Enraged at the attitude of the man, Karl stepped toward him.
"Stop! I won't allow any more of this," he commanded.
The entrance of Heinrich checked his speech. The old servant said: