Note: Translator Pauline Bancroft Flach died in 1966, less than 70 years ago. Therefore, this work is protected by copyright, restricting your legal rights to reproduce it. However, you are welcome to view it on screen, as you do now. Read more about copyright.
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THE SIROCCO 151
“So it is true that you have had no success in
England?”
“ What do you mean ?”
“People say that the great master, to whom Miss
Tottenham sent you, has said that you — ”
“What has he said?”
“That you and your images suited Diamante, but
nowhere else.”
“ Who says such things ? ”
“People think so, because you are so changed.”
“Since I am a socialist.”
“Why should you be one if you had been
successful ?”
“Ah, why— ? You do not know,” he continued,
with a laugh, “that my master in England himself
was a socialist. You do not know that it was he
who taught me these opinions —”
He paused, and did not go on with the controversy.
He went over to the bench where he had been
sitting when she came, and brought back a statuette.
He handed it to Donna Micaela. He seemed to
wish to say: “ See for yourself if you are right.”
She took it, and held it up in the moonlight. It
was a Mater Dolorosa in black marble. She could
see it quite plainly.
She could also recognize it. The image had her
own features. It intoxicated her for a moment. In
the next she was filled with horror. He, a socialist;
he, an unbeliever; he dared to create a Madonna!
And he had given the image her features! He
entangled her in his sin!
“I have done it for you, Donna Micaela,” he said.
Ah, since it was hers! She threw it out over the
balustrade. It struck against the steep mountain
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