“You are to find out who the man in the Cascine was, immediately—
“Oh, what a man! Did you see him? What do you think of him? Tell me.”
“The man is beautiful,” I replied dully.
“He is so beautiful,” she paused, supporting herself on the arm of a chair, “that he has taken my breath away.”
“I can understand the impression he has made on you,” I replied, my imagination carrying me away in a mad whirl. “I am quite lost in admiration myself, and I can imagine—”
“You may imagine,” she laughed aloud, “that this man is my lover, and that he will apply the lash to you, and that you will enjoy being punished by him.
“But now go, go.”
* * * * *
Before evening fell, I had the desired information.
Wanda was still fully dressed when I returned. She reclined on the ottoman, her face buried in her hands, her hair in a wild tangle, like the red mane of a lioness.