large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_1_macdonald_64kb_74
large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_1_macdonald_64kb
English
5293
A more desolate communication between souls than that which then passed between father and daughter could hardly be imagined. The father spoke of humanity and all its experiences in a tone of the bitterest scorn. A MORE DESOLATE COMMUNICATION BETWEEN SOULS THAN THAT WHICH THEN PASSED BETWEEN FATHER AND DAUGHTER COULD HARDLY BE IMAGINED THE FATHER SPOKE OF HUMANITY AND ALL ITS EXPERIENCES IN A TONE OF THE BITTEREST SCORN
ved her enough to attribute to her all the possibilities of her face as actual possessions of her being. To account for everything that seemed to contradict this perfection, his brain was prolific in inventions; till he was compelled at last to see that she was in the condition of a rose-bud, which, on the point of blossoming, had been chilled into a changeless bud by the cold of an untimely frost. For one day, after the father and daughter had become a little more accustomed to his silent presence, a conversation began between them, which went on until he saw that Teufelsbürst believed in nothing except his art. How much of his feeling for that could be dignified by the name of belief, seeing its objects were such as they were, might have been questioned. It seemed to Wolkenlicht to amount only to this: that, amidst a thousand distastes, it was a pleasant thing to reproduce on the canvas the forms he beheld around him, modifying them to express the prevailing feelings of his own mind. INED FOR HE SOON LOVED HER ENOUGH TO ATTRIBUTE TO HER ALL THE POSSIBILITIES OF HER FACE AS ACTUAL POSSESSIONS OF HER BEING TO ACCOUNT FOR EVERYTHING THAT SEEMED TO CONTRADICT THIS PERFECTION HIS BRAIN WAS PROLIFIC IN INVENTIONS TILL HE WAS COMPELLED AT LAST TO SEE THAT SHE WAS IN THE CONDITION OF A ROSEBUD WHICH ON THE POINT OF BLOSSOMING HAD BEEN CHILLED INTO A CHANGELESS BUD BY THE COLD OF AN UNTIMELY FROST FOR ONE DAY AFTER THE FATHER AND DAUGHTER HAD BECOME A LITTLE MORE ACCUSTOMED TO HIS SILENT PRESENCE A CONVERSATION BEGAN BETWEEN THEM WHICH WENT ON UNTIL HE SAW THAT TEUFELSBUERST BELIEVED IN NOTHING EXCEPT HIS ART HOW MUCH OF HIS FEELING FOR THAT COULD BE DIGNIFIED BY THE NAME OF BELIEF SEEING ITS OBJECTS WERE SUCH AS THEY WERE MIGHT HAVE BEEN QUESTIONED IT SEEMED TO WOLKENLICHT TO AMOUNT ONLY TO THIS THAT AMIDST A THOUSAND DISTASTES IT WAS A PLEASANT THING TO REPRODUCE ON THE CANVAS THE FORMS HE BEHELD AROUND HIM MODIFYING THEM TO EXPRESS THE PREVAILING FEELINGS OF HIS OWN MIND
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