that matter, every one here in Munich carries the freedom of the mask
pretty far--"

"Does Jansen also belong to the society?"

"Of course, he cannot help doing so. But he is said to be one of the
quietest among them, according to Rosenbusch. Upon my life, I would
just like to peep through the keyhole once! 'Oh, had I a jacket and
trousers and hat!'"

"Why, Angelica, you have the true woman's-rights ideas!"

The painter drew a deep sigh.

"Julie," she said, with comical solemnity, "that is just the misfortune
of my life, that two souls dwell in this breast--a timid, old-maidish,
conservative girl's soul by the side of a very bold, dare-devil,
Bohemian artist's temperament. Tell me, did you never in your life
experience a strong desire to cut loose for once from propriety--to do
something thoroughly reckless, improper, unpermissible? Of course I
mean when one was entirely among boon companions, and no one could
reprove the other, because all were possessed of the same demon. The
men fare well in this respect. When they steal back again into the lost
Paradise, they call it a sign of genius. An unfortunate woman, though
she were ten times an artist, and as such perpetually inclined not to
be a Philistine, must never let it be seen in her manner of life that
she can do more than darn stockings!--It is true," she continued,
thoughtfully, "as for women in a body, a whole swarm of talented
women--no matter how much capacity some among them might have for such
a thing--I myself would decline such a Paradise with thanks. Now, why
is that? Does it really amount to this, that we cannot exist by
ourselves alone; that we can neither plan nor bring about anything
successful?"

"Perhaps it merely arises from the fact that true friendship, real
thorough companionship, is so rare among our sex," answered Julie,
musingly. "We are just as loath to permit another to shine among
ourselves as before the men. But something has just occurred to me;
might not we take advantage of the occasion, and, as you recently
proposed, take a look at Jansen's studio?"

"And why not rather when he is there himself? He would undoubtedly be
very happy--"

"No, no!" interposed Julie, hastily, "I will not do that. I have
invariably played such a silly part in studios--because it is
impossible for me to bring myself to pay a trivial compliment--that I
have sworn never again to visit an artist surrounded by his works. You
know it is my Cordelia-like