A man, severely wounded, sought refuge in an abandoned château with the help of his valet, Pedro. They settled in a small, remote turret room adorned with tapestries, armorial trophies, and numerous modern paintings. The man, unable to sleep, decided to spend the night examining the paintings and reading a book that described them.
As the night progressed, the man accidentally shone light on a previously unnoticed painting. It was an oval portrait of a young girl, beautifully executed and incredibly lifelike. The man became deeply affected by the portrait and sought to understand its power over him. He eventually concluded that it was the absolute life-likeness of the girl's expression that had so profoundly moved him.
I had found the spell of the picture in an absolute life-likeliness of expression, which, at first startling, finally confounded, subdued, and appalled me.
Turning to the book, the man read the story behind the portrait. The girl was a maiden of rare beauty and full of joy. She fell in love with and married a passionate, austere painter who was already devoted to his art.
The girl loved everything except the art that took her husband's attention away from her. When the painter expressed his desire to paint his young bride, she reluctantly agreed.
The girl sat for weeks in a dark turret chamber, where the light fell only from above. The painter, consumed by his work, failed to notice that his wife's health and spirits were deteriorating. Despite her suffering, she continued to smile and support her husband's passion. As the painting neared completion, the painter became even more obsessed, refusing to let anyone else into the turret.
And he would not see that the tints which he spread upon the canvas were drawn from the cheeks of her who sat beside him.
Finally, with only a few touches left to complete the portrait, the girl's spirit flickered like a dying flame. The painter finished the painting, and for a moment, he was entranced by his own creation. However, as he turned to look at his wife, he realized that she had died. The painter had unwittingly captured her very life essence on the canvas, leaving her lifeless in reality.