"Homo? What a queer name! What does it mean?"
"It is Latin, and means 'man.' Years ago the old boy showed so much human reason, just as his master seemed on the point of losing his head, that it was decided to rechristen him. Since then he has never brought shame upon his name. So you see, child, in what good company you are. If I am hardly as old as a grandfather yet, I am almost old enough to be your father. And I thought these two sittings would have convinced you that you were perfectly safe with me--that I shall faithfully keep what I promised you. And that is the reason--"
"No, no, no, no!" cried she, jumping suddenly up and whirling around, and shaking her head so violently that her hair flew about her like a wheel of fire. "What makes you speak of that again, Herr Jansen? You take me for a silly, thoughtless kind of girl, no doubt--and think that in time I shan't be able to refuse you anything. But you are very much mistaken. It is true, I don't mind doing some foolish things; and standing about for you here like this doesn't seem to me anything wrong or disgraceful. Why, at a ball last winter where we had made up the flowers, and so they let us look in through the dressing-room, the fine ladies appeared before gentlemen in a very different way from the way I am standing and walking about here; and there were a great many officers there--not even artists, like you, that only look artistically at a bare neck and shoulders. But, if I will do that for you, you mustn't ask anything more. It is true, my friend, when I told her, did not think anything of it--and she could come with me. But that is decided--it would make me so that I never could look anybody straight in the face again. No--no--no! I will not do it--now or ever!"
"You are right, child," interrupted the sculptor, breaking in on her excited words and, suddenly changing the form of his speech into the more familiar "thou." "Nobody need know of it, and, if it is disagreeable to you, I will not speak of it again. And yet--it's a pity! I could make the figure from a single mould, so to speak; and in half the time that I shall have to spend now in looking about for something that will suit."
She made no answer, but of her own accord mounted upon the bench, and leaned back again, hanging from the rod.
"Is that right?" she asked. "Am I standing just as I did before?"
He only nodded, without looking up at her.
"What makes you cross with me?" she asked, after a while. "I cannot help it because I am not like my friend. To be sure, she has had a great deal more experience than I. And then she has been in love more than once."
"Have you never had a sweetheart, Zenz?"
"No; a real sweetheart, such as one would go through the fire for--never! My red hair didn't have very good fortune out in Salzburg, where I have generally lived. And, besides, I was too ugly. One of them said I had a dog's face. It has only been within the last year, when I have suddenly shot up a little, and grown a little stouter, that the gentlemen have sometimes run after me; and with one of them--a right nice young fellow--I had a kind of a flirtation. But he was so silly that he tired me; and so it hadn't gone far between us when one fine day he fell sick and died. And it was only then that I found I couldn't have loved him so very, very much; for I didn't even cry about him. Since then I have taken good care not to make a fool of myself again. Men are bad; everybody says that that knows anything. As for me, if I liked one--if I really liked him, 'von Herzen, mit Schmerzen'--"