"The artist may have chosen the same point of view," returned Blanka with admirable composure.
"I called on him at his studio lately," proceeded the marchioness. "I had heard one of his pictures very highly praised. It represents a young woman sitting on the gallery railing in the Colosseum, with the sunlight streaming on her through a red umbrella. The warm glow of the sunbeams is in striking contrast with the deep melancholy on the girl's face. I offered the artist two hundred scudi for the piece, but he said it was not for sale at any price."
Blanka felt as powerless in the hands of this woman as a rabbit in the clutches of a lion. The beautiful Cyrene closed the portfolio and exclaimed:
"Rozina, these men are terrible creatures! They make us women their slaves. But the woman's first and dominant thought must ever be to find some escape from her bondage."
With that she jumped up and ran out of the room, as if taken suddenly ill. Her hostess followed to see what was the matter, and found her sitting in a corner of the adjoining apartment.
"You are weeping?"
"Not at all; never merrier in my life!"
Nevertheless, two tears were shining in the fair Cyrene's eyes.
Next she ran to the piano and began to rattle off "La Gitana," which Cerito had just made so popular throughout Europe.
"Have you the score?" asked the marchioness, turning to Blanka.