For he saw that, with the holy shadow of
sorrow, all that distinguished the expression of her countenance from that
which the painter so constantly reproduced, had vanished likewise. It was
the very face of the unheeding angel whom, as often as he lifted his eyes
higher than hers, he saw on the wall above her, playing on a psaltery in
the smoke of the torment ascending for ever from burning Babylon.--The
power of the painter had not merely wrought for the representation of the
woman of his imagination; it had had scope as well in realizing her.
"Karl soon began to see that communication, other than of the eyes, was
all but hopeless; and to any attempt in that way she seemed altogether
indisposed to respond. Nor if she had wished it, would it have been safe;
for as often as he glanced towards her, instead of hers, he met the blue
eyes of the painter gleaming upon him like winter lightning. His tones,
his gestures, his words, seemed kind: his glance and his smile refused to
be disguised.
"The first day he dined alone in the studio, waited upon by an old woman;
the next he was admitted to the family table, with Teufelsbuerst and
Lilith.
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