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  • To-day I visited the Venus of Medici.
  • It was still early, and the little octagonal room in the Tribuna was filled
  • with half-lights like a sanctuary; I stood with folded hands in deep adoration
  • before the silent image of the divinity.
  • But I did not stand for long.
  • Not a human soul was in the gallery, not even an Englishman, and I fell down
  • on my knees. I looked up at the lovely slender body, the budding breasts, the
  • virginal and yet voluptuous face, the fragrant curls which seemed to conceal
  • tiny horns on each side of the forehead.