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When night draws near your window, come to him naked.
Softly will he ripple and darken round your still beauty, touching the tips of your breasts.
I shall stand with him there, a stray wanderer…
No, Anton Wanzl was not good. He lacked love, he lacked heart. He did only what he thought was clever and sensible. He gave no love and asked for none. He never needed any affection, any tenderness…
Giorgio [Entering]:Am I disturbing you?Olga:So it seems! What good wind brings you here? Sit down.Giorgio:Thank you. I’m returning from the Exposition . . .Olga:Ah, you went! . . .Giorgio:.…