Real world denver nude

* * * * * We are at the district capital. Wanda throws off her furs and places them over my arm, and goes to secure the tickets. “Here is your ticket, Gregor,” she says in a tone which supercilious ladies use to their servants.

You won’t get on until I am settled in my compartment and don’t need you any longer. At each station you will hurry to my car and ask for my orders. And now give me my furs.” After I had helped her into them, humbly like a slave, she went to find an empty first-class coupe. Supporting herself on my shoulder, she real world denver nude got on and I wrapped her feet in bear-skins and placed them on the warming bottle.

I slowly ascended a third-class carriage, which was filled with abominable tobacco-smoke that seemed like the fogs of Acheron at the entrance to Hades. I now had the leisure to muse about the riddle of human existence, and about its greatest riddle of all—_woman_. * * * * * Whenever the train stops, I jump off, run to her carriage, and with drawn cap await her orders. She wants coffee and then a glass of water, at another time a bowl of warm water to wash her hands, and thus it goes on. She lets several men who have entered her compartment pay court to her. I am dying of jealousy and have to leap about like an antelope so as to secure what she wants quickly and not miss the train. I haven’t had time to eat a mouthful and I can’t sleep, I have to breathe the same oniony air with Polish peasants, Jewish peddlers, and common soldiers.

When I mount the steps of her coupe, she is lying stretched out on cushions in her comfortable furs, covered up with the skins of animals.

She is like an oriental despot, and the men sit like Indian deities, straight upright against the walls and scarcely dare to breathe. * * * * * She stops over in Vienna for a day to go shopping, and particularly to buy series of luxurious gowns. I real world denver nude follow her at the respectful distance of ten paces. She hands me her packages without so much as even deigning a kind look, and laden down like a donkey I pant along behind. Before leaving she takes all my clothes and gives them to the hotel waiters. It is a Cracovian costume in her colors, light-blue with red facings, and red quadrangular cap, ornamented with peacock-feathers. I have the feeling of having been sold or of having bonded myself to the devil.

Instead of linen-garbed Mazovians and greasy-haired Jews, my companions now are curly-haired Contadini, a magnificent sergeant of the first Italian Grenadiers, and a poor German painter. The tobacco smoke no longer smells of onions, but of salami and cheese. I lie on my wooden bed as on a rack; my arms and legs seem broken. But there nevertheless is an element of poetry in the affair. The stars sparkle round about, the Italian sergeant has a face like Apollo Belvedere, and the German painter sings a lovely German song. “Now that all the shadows gather And endless stars grow light, Deep yearning on me falls And softly fills the night.” “Through the sea of dreams Sailing without cease, Sailing goes my soul In thine to find release.” And I am thinking of the beautiful woman who is sleeping in regal comfort among her soft furs.

Crowds, cries, importunate porters and cab-drivers. Wanda chooses a carriage, and dismisses the porters. “What have I a servant for,” she says, “Gregor—here is the ticket—get the luggage.” She wraps herself in her furs and sits quietly in the carriage while I drag the heavy trunks hither, one after another. I break down for real world denver nude a moment under the last one; a good-natured _carabiniere_ with an intelligent face comes to my assistance.

“It must be heavy,” said she, “all my furs are in it.” I get up on the driver’s seat, wiping drops of perspiration from my brow. She gives the name of the hotel, and the driver urges on his horse.

In a few minutes we halt at the brilliantly illuminated entrance. “Yes, madame.” “Two for me, one real world denver nude for my servant, all with stoves.” “Two first-class rooms for you, madame, both with stoves,” replied the waiter who had hastily come up, “and one without heat for your servant.” She looked at them, and then abruptly said: “they are satisfactory, have fires built at once; my servant can sleep real world denver nude in the unheated room.” I merely looked at her.

“Bring up the trunks, Gregor,” she commands, paying no attention to my looks.

“In real nude little girls the meantime I’ll be dressing, and then will go down to the dining-room, and you can eat something for supper.” As she goes into the adjoining room, I drag the trunks upstairs and help the waiter build a fire in her bed-room.