“Leah! Give it to me, your necklace! You hear me, Leah? Give me your necklace!”

No answer came from the bed of iron and copper carved, shining in the darkness like an armor.

“Why do not you give me no, your necklace? I will as well as you, and even better!”

At the snap of the clasp, lace bed agitated, arms bare, beautiful, thin wrist, raised two beautiful hands lazy.

“Leave it, Honey, you’ve played enough with this necklace.

-I have fun …. You’re afraid I’ll steal it? “

Crossed before the curtain rose the sun, he danced, all black, like a graceful devil on the bottom of furnace. But when he started back toward the bed, it became all white, silk pajamas with slippers suede.

“I’m not afraid, ‘replied the voice from the bed soft and low. But you toil over the collar. The beads are heavy.

-They are, Darling said with consideration. It was not fun of you, who gave you this furniture. “

He stood before a mirror long, applied to the wall between the windows and looked at his picture and very beautiful young man, neither tall nor short, blue hair as a blackbird feathers. He opened her nightgown on a chest dull and hard, domed shield, and even spark Pink played on his teeth, the whites of her eyes dark and the beads of the necklace.