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He
’
s
letting
us
keep
our
contract
money
.
"
I
kissed
the
palm
of
her
hand
.
"
Was
he
really
disappointed
?
"
"
I
felt
…
well
,
he
did
say
.
We
were
only
just
beginning
the
real
play
when
we
stopped
.
"
I
looked
down
at
her
,
at
the
shadows
on
her
throat
.
"
Are
you
disappointed
?
"
She
looked
at
me
,
smiled
,
and
shook
her
head
.
I
said
,
"
And
now
?
"
She
sat
up
.
Her
hair
hid
her
face
from
me
;
silk
-
pale
strands
on
the
navy
-
blue
shirt
.
"
June
’
s
going
to
fly
back
to
England
.
"
"
That
’
s
not
an
answer
.
"
"
Do
you
really
need
one
?
"
I
smiled
,
stroked
her
hair
,
then
pulled
her
to
me
;
turned
her
head
and
kissed
her
.
After
a
moment
she
sank
back
and
I
lay
beside
her
.
Her
shirt
had
rucked
up
and
I
bent
and
kissed
her
stomach
,
then
touched
her
navel
with
my
tongue
,
and
she
pressed
my
head
down
against
her
bare
skin
.
The
lunch
stood
on
the
table
.
Hermes
picked
up
one
of
the
roped
crates
as
soon
as
he
saw
us
,
and
began
to
carry
it
down
to
the
beach
.
Four
times
he
reappeared
during
the
meal
and
went
down
with
another
crate
.
She
went
and
changed
out
of
her
suit
into
pale
blue
trousers
;
dark
blue
,
pale
blue
,
changing
before
a
walk
…
I
remembered
Alison
.
And
looking
at
Julie
,
forgot
her
.
We
sat
and
ate
;
not
very
much
.
Neither
of
us
was
hungry
.
"
I
went
mad
while
you
were
away
.
Trying
to
find
out
where
you
hid
here
.
"
"
Maurice
thought
someone
in
the
village
would
tell
you
.
"
"
In
the
village
?
"
She
reached
out
and
took
a
Kalamata
olive
;
bit
it
,
her
amused
eyes
on
mine
.
"
I
’
ll
show
you
.
If
you
’
re
good
.
"
"
I
’
ve
just
remembered
.
Some
Latin
poem
Maurice
asked
me
to
ask
you
about
.
Nullos
something
?
By
Catullus
.
"
"
Nulli
se
dicit
mulier
mea
nubere
malle
…
"
"
That
was
it
.
"
"
The
last
line
says
,
’
What
a
woman
tells
a
passionate
lover
should
be
written
in
wind
and
running
water
.
"
"
Should
it
?
"
She
dropped
her
eyes
.
"
Ask
me
tomorrow
.
"
"
I
love
you
.
"
But
Hermes
came
to
fetch
the
last
picture
crate
and
we
were
silent
.
I
reached
out
with
my
bare
foot
and
touched
hers
.
Our
eyes
were
serious
,
our
feet
played
,
pressed
;
soles
and
souls
.
We
went
up
to
my
room
to
get
my
things
.
Julie
stood
in
the
door
while
I
filled
my
dufflebag
.
I
sat
on
the
bed
to
tie
up
the
strings
round
the
neck
.
She
came
in
and
gently
lifted
the
old
photo
of
the
house
.
The
gecko
clung
to
the
wall
.
I
said
,
"
You
’
ve
slept
in
this
room
.
"
She
nodded
.
I
reached
out
and
caught
her
hand
,
and
made
her
sit
beside
me
.
We
sat
in
silence
,
in
the
silent
house
,
as
if
there
were
ghosts
that
could
be
listened
to
and
heard
.
I
kept
on
thinking
of
the
bare
skin
under
the
shirt
;
of
her
body
;
and
then
of
how
much
more
than
bare
skin
and
body
she
was
.
Perhaps
it
was
seeing
her
in
contemporary
clothes
;
but
I
was
intensely
aware
of
her
in
a
new
nonsexual
way
.
As
a
companion
,
a
partner
in
life
;
in
some
ways
,
as
an
innocent
—
a
very
intelligent
innocent
,
but
one
that
needed
protecting
,
cherishing
;
and
her
innocense
,
living
up
to
.
I
felt
a
new
sort
of
ardor
,
an
anxious
desire
to
hide
nothing
from
her
,
to
have
nothing
of
her
hidden
from
me
.
I
was
longing
to
tell
her
about
Alison
,
longing
for
her
sympathy
and
understanding
.
But
the
lie
I
had
told
her
a
fortnight
before
stood
like
a
black
guard
,
like
Joe
,
between
me
and
the
absolving
sunlight
.
As
soon
as
we
had
consummated
the
physical
thing
,
I
would
go
to
confession
;
and
even
then
I
knew
a
little
wave
of
relief
at
the
thought
that
there
was
now
only
one
witness
of
that
weekend
in
Athens
.
Those
moments
on
Parnassus
need
never
he
told
.
As
a
substitute
,
to
confess
something
,
I
told
her
about
the
letters
I
had
written
:
to
the
bank
,
to
her
mother
.
"
I
don
’
t
mind
.
We
’
ve
done
the
same
.
"
"
The
same
!
"
"
June
telephoned
the
British
Council
.
From
Nauplia
.
Years
ago
.
"
We
grinned
.
Silence
.
Hands
.
"
Julie
.
"
"
Nicholas
.
"
Always
those
tenderly
impenetrable
eyes
.
"
I
want
to
marry
you
.
"
She
withdrew
her
hands
gently
.
I
moved
closer
and
put
my
arms
round
her
shoulders
.
"
What
’
s
wrong
?
"
"
I
want
you
to
take
me
to
bed
with
you
first
.
"
"
But
I
’
m
dying
to
.
You
know
I
am
.
"
She
misinterpreted
my
movement
.
"
Not
here
.
"
"
Of
course
not
here
.
"
"
I
’
m
so
frightened
that
you
’
ll
be
disappointed
.
"
I
shook
her
.
"
You
’
re
just
a
neurotic
spinster
.
"
"
I
know
.
"
"
I
’
ll
be
as
patient
and
gentle
as
…
"
She
gave
me
a
quick
smile
,
then
stood
up
and
went
to
the
door
.
We
remained
staring
at
each
other
.
She
murmured
,
"
Not
too
gentle
.
"
I
followed
her
fair
head
down
the
stairs
.
She
went
ahead
of
me
into
the
music
room
,
then
whisked
round
,
playful
,
a
sudden
idea
.
She
said
just
one
word
.
"
Encore
?
"
I
knew
what
she
meant
.
I
stood
back
against
the
wall
.
She
disappeared
,
a
pause
,
the
sound
of
a
drawer
opening
,
then
she
was
standing
in
the
doorway
,
with
the
recorder
flue
brush
in
her
hand
;
with
miraculously
the
same
look
at
me
,
the
same
secret
look
back
at
the
Conchis
who
now
was
not
there
,
the
same
leaning
forward
to
push
me
away
.
But
this
time
I
caught
her
wrist
and
pulled
her
out
of
the
music
room
into
the
little
corridor
;
drew
the
door
to
,
so
that
we
stood
in
the
cool
darkness
,
watching
,
not
playing
,
very
close
;
and
she
came
into
my
arms
.
I
kissed
her
until
she
twisted
her
head
away
with
a
little
gasp
;
then
made
her
turn
.
I
held
her
back
against
me
,
slipped
my
right
hand
inside
her
trousers
,
spread
my
fingers
over
her
naked
stomach
.
She
held
my
wrist
.
I
tenderly
bit
her
neck
,
murmured
her
name
over
and
over
again
,
slipped
my
other
hand
under
her
shirt
and
up
her
bare
back
and
unhooked
the
bra
;
then
,
unresisted
,
caressed
my
way
under
her
warm
arm
to
her
breasts
,
small
breasts
that
I
could
just
span
with
one
hand
;
and
so
held
her
against
me
;
our
hot
nakednesses
through
the
thin
clothes
.
She
made
little
movements
;
then
surrendered
.
Minutes
passed
.
I
whispered
.
"
Promise
I
can
hold
you
tonight
like
this
.
"
She
nodded
.
"
Undress
you
and
hold
you
like
this
.
"
She
raised
my
right
hand
and
kissed
it
.
We
heard
Hermes
’
s
footsteps
coming
over
the
gravel
outside
.
I
refastened
her
bra
,
and
she
shook
her
hair
straight
.
A
moment
in
the
shadows
,
shadowy
eyes
.
"
You
make
me
feel
I
’
ve
never
touched
a
girl
before
.
"
"
You
make
me
feel
I
’
ve
never
been
touched
.
"
Under
the
colonnade
,
Hermes
stood
waiting
.
He
went
and
locked
the
music
-
room
doors
from
the
inside
;
let
himself
out
by
the
front
door
.
I
said
we
would
be
at
the
house
in
the
village
about
six
,
and
then
we
watched
him
go
down
the
path
with
Julie
’
s
suitcase
.
We
were
alone
.
Silence
,
the
cicadas
.
Her
mouth
looked
bruised
,
her
eyes
almost
violet
;
a
heavy
,
emotion
-
laden
look
at
me
,
as
if
she
blamed
me
and
forgave
me
,
forgave
me
and
blamed
me
…
I
reached
out
my
hand
.
"
I
’
ve
been
good
.
"
She
recovered
herself
then
,
laughed
and
remembered
,
and
led
me
to
the
steps
over
the
gulley
;
I
heard
the
sound
of
the
boat
drawing
out
of
the
private
cove
.
To
my
surprise
Julie
turned
down
past
the
carob
.
We
came
to
the
edge
of
the
trees
,
between
the
small
hummock
where
I
had
met
the
sisters
and
the
place
where
we
had
lain
on
Julie
’
s
rug
and
the
whole
story
had
been
told
.
Twenty
yards
away
the
cliff
dropped
straight
into
the
sea
.
The
ground
was
rough
.
There
were
small
boulders
,
some
matted
whinlike
scrub
,
thyme
and
other
aromatic
plants
;
the
huge
dry
brown
bulbs
of
asphodels
.
"
Here
.
See
if
you
can
find
it
.
"
She
stood
under
a
pine
and
watched
me
quarter
the
innocent
ground
.
I
searched
for
a
raised
neck
,
a
cap
of
some
sort
;
threw
a
sharp
look
back
at
her
.
She
had
her
hand
to
her
mouth
,
in
suspense
.
I
was
near
.
Just
in
front
of
me
there
was
the
stump
of
a
pine
that
had
been
cut
down
many
years
before
.
Around
it
an
area
of
about
five
feet
by
three
was
bare
,
apparently
because
of
the
stones
,
or
because
the
dead
stem
had
poisoned
the
ground
in
some
way
.
It
seemed
perfectly
natural
,
but
Julie
was
smiling
.
The
stones
were
,
on
a
second
examination
,
suspiciously
thick
around
the
stump
.
And
as
soon
as
I
actually
stood
on
the
bare
patch
I
realized
something
else
.
The
stones
did
not
budge
under
my
feet
;
they
were
cemented
in
.
Julie
came
down
through
the
low
undergrowth
to
beside
me
.
Pointed
.
Beyond
the
stump
was
a
stone
a
foot
or
so
long
,
seemingly
embedded
in
the
ground
—
or
concreted
,
like
the
rest
.
But
it
was
loose
,
though
difficult
to
lift
till
I
moved
it
sideways
.
Underneath
was
a
hinged
iron
ring
,
lying
flat
in
a
recess
.
Gradually
I
could
make
out
the
outline
of
a
trapdoor
.
It
was
very
irregular
;
and
the
tree
stump
had
been
cemented
into
the
middle
of
it
.
"
I
’
ll
show
you
.
"
She
stooped
to
grip
the
ring
.
"
Wait
a
minute
.
It
must
be
as
heavy
as
hell
.
"
"
It
’
s
counterbalanced
.
"
She
strained
for
a
moment
and
then
swiftly
a
whole
jagged
section
of
the
ground
rose
in
the
air
.
I
looked
down
.
An
oval
hole
about
a
yard
in
widest
diameter
,
descending
vertically
,
like
a
huge
pipe
;
an
iron
ladder
against
the
wall
.
From
the
inside
of
the
door
hung
two
wire
cables
ending
in
what
looked
like
lead
weights
four
or
five
feet
down
the
pipe
—
the
counterbalance
.
I
looked
at
the
door
again
.
It
was
flanged
with
rocks
so
cemented
that
from
above
they
broke
the
line
of
the
edge
.
"
What
on
earth
…
"
She
smiled
.
"
The
Germans
.
In
the
war
.
"
I
hit
my
head
.
Of
course
.
A
gun
emplacement
.
Conchis
would
simply
have
concealed
the
entrance
;
blocked
off
the
front
slits
.
"
What
about
the
stone
over
the
ring
?
"
She
showed
me
.
It
too
had
a
hook
that
kept
it
in
place
.
Then
she
turned
at
the
brink
,
put
her
hands
onto
the
ground
and
felt
her
feet
onto
the
rungs
of
the
iron
ladder
.
In
ten
seconds
she
was
out
of
sight
;
could
have
pulled
the
"
lid
"
down
,
and
anyone
coming
over
the
rise
of
ground
from
inland
would
have
been
completely
at
a
loss
.
She
reached
the
bottom
some
fifteen
feet
below
and
called
;
a
hollow
subterranean
timbre
to
her
voice
;
pale
face
upturned
.
I
began
to
clamber
down
after
her
.
It
was
unpleasantly
claustrophobic
.
But
at
the
bottom
,
opposite
the
ladder
,
was
a
triangular
room
running
towards
the
cliff
.
Not
very
large
;
equilateral
twelvefoot
sides
.
On
the
side
farthest
from
the
ladder
I
could
just
make
out
two
doors
.
Julie
was
standing
by
one
of
them
.
She
came
back
towards
me
,
to
the
foot
of
the
ladder
.
"
The
doors
are
locked
.
"
She
seemed
surprised
.
"
Shouldn
’
t
they
be
?
I
expect
Hermes
has
been
down
.
"
"
Have
you
got
a
match
?
"
I
struck
one
.
The
left
wall
of
the
triangular
room
was
painted
with
a
lurid
mural
—
a
beer
cellar
scene
,
foaming
stems
of
beer
,
bosomy
girls
with
winking
eyes
.
Dim
traces
showed
that
there
had
once
been
colors
,
but
now
it
was
only
black
outlines
that
remained
.
As
remote
as
an
Etruscan
wall
painting
;
of
a
culture
long
-
sunken
under
time
.
On
the
right
-
hand
wall
was
something
much
more
skillful
—
a
perspective
street
scene
that
I
didn
’
t
recognize
,
but
guessed
to
be
of
some
Austrian
city
.
Vienna
perhaps
.
I
guessed
,
too
,
that
Anton
had
helped
to
execute
it
.
I
lit
a
fourth
match
.
There
were
two
heavy
doors
like
bulkhead
doors
aboard
a
ship
.
Both
had
massive
padlocks
.
She
nodded
.
"
That
was
our
room
,
to
the
right
.
Joe
used
this
one
.
"
"
What
a
god
-
awful
place
.
It
smells
.
"
"
I
know
.
We
used
to
call
it
the
earth
.
Have
you
ever
smelt
a
fox
earth
?
"
"
What
’
s
behind
the
doors
?
"
"
Just
costumes
.
Beds
.
More
murals
.
"
I
saw
the
wire
running
in
over
the
top
left
-
hand
door
.
"
And
a
field
telephone
.
Where
did
it
go
?
"
"
To
his
bedroom
.
"
"
Are
there
more
places
like
this
?
"
"
Two
more
.
Just
to
hide
in
.
"
"
That
day
on
the
beach
.
"
She
nodded
,
smiled
in
the
feeble
light
from
the
pipe
to
the
surface
.
"
You
’
re
a
brave
girl
.
To
face
this
sort
of
thing
.
"
"
I
hated
it
.
"
She
looked
round
.
"
So
many
sour
,
unhappy
men
.
"
I
followed
her
back
to
the
foot
of
ladder
.
I
was
thinking
of
a
place
under
the
bluff
on
the
central
ridge
,
a
little
corner
shaded
by
pine
trees
,
absolutely
private
,
thickly
carpeted
with
pine
needles
;
to
take
her
there
,
and
take
her
,
with
a
gentle
roughness
,
a
romantic
brutality
;
as
,
and
I
did
not
shirk
the
parallel
,
I
had
taken
Alison
on
Parnassus
;
and
because
I
had
taken
her
;
the
sad
sweet
poetry
of
echoes
.
Julie
began
to
climb
the
ladder
;
slim
blue
legs
.
The
white
daylight
dazzled
down
.
I
waited
a
moment
at
the
bottom
,
to
keep
clear
of
her
feet
,
than
started
after
her
.
The
top
of
her
body
disappeared
.
And
then
she
screamed
my
name
.
Someone
had
caught
her
arms
and
was
dragging
her
away
.
Her
legs
kicked
wildly
sideways
,
then
vanished
.
My
name
again
,
but
cut
off
short
.
A
scuffle
of
stones
.
I
clawed
violently
up
the
remaining
rungs
.
For
one
fraction
of
a
second
a
face
appeared
in
the
opening
above
.
Young
,
with
crewcut
blond
hair
.
I
had
an
idea
he
was
German
,
one
of
the
"
soldiers
,
"
though
he
was
wearing
a
black
shirt
.
He
saw
I
was
still
two
rungs
from
the
top
,
and
immediately
slammed
the
lid
down
.
I
shouted
in
the
pitch
darkness
.
"
For
God
’
s
sake
!
Hey
.
Wait
a
minute
!
"
I
pressed
up
furiously
on
the
underside
of
the
lid
.
It
gave
a
fraction
,
as
if
someone
was
standing
or
sitting
on
it
.
But
it
wouldn
’
t
move
further
.
I
strained
to
heave
it
up
.
Then
listened
.
Silence
.
I
tried
the
lid
again
,
as
unrewardingly
as
before
.
After
a
while
I
climbed
down
to
the
bottom
.
I
struck
a
match
and
examined
the
two
massive
doors
.
They
were
impenetrable
.
Snarling
with
rage
,
I
remembered
Conchis
’
s
fairy
-
godfather
smiles
.
The
great
farewell
.
Our
revels
now
are
ended
.
He
must
have
hugged
himself
with
joy
when
I
called
his
bluff
and
produced
my
letter
.
I
saw
why
he
had
taunted
me
.
He
wanted
me
to
tell
him
I
loved
Julie
.
His
plan
was
always
to
be
ruined
.
Her
false
departure
was
always
to
be
canceled
.
And
Julie
?
I
was
flooded
with
old
doubts
about
her
.
But
had
she
tried
to
delay
me
at
the
bottom
of
the
ladder
?
No
.
And
she
could
easily
have
dropped
something
.
Had
she
enticed
me
into
the
place
?
No
,
I
had
brought
the
subject
up
myself
,
both
times
.
He
had
tricked
her
as
well
.
Perhaps
he
was
jealous
of
us
—
not
only
sexually
jealous
,
but
jealous
of
us
as
rebellious
puppets
.
I
thought
of
how
near
I
had
been
to
having
her
.
To
teaching
her
that
there
were
things
in
which
I
was
skilled
,
wise
,
both
passionate
and
patient
I
swore
aloud
with
frustrated
rage
and
went
up
the
ladder
again
to
bang
on
the
lid
with
one
of
the
counterweights
.
But
it
was
a
waste
of
time
.
So
I
sat
at
the
foot
of
the
ladder
and
seethed
,
trying
to
plumb
Conchis
’
s
duplicities
;
to
read
his
palimpsest
.
His
"
theatre
without
an
audience
"
made
no
sense
,
it
couldn
’
t
be
the
explanation
.
The
one
thing
all
actors
and
actresses
craved
was
an
audience
.
Perhaps
what
he
was
doing
sprang
from
some
theory
about
the
theatre
—
he
had
said
it
himself
:
The
masque
is
only
a
metaphor
.
A
strange
and
incomprehensible
new
philosophy
?
Metaphorism
?
Perhaps
he
saw
himself
as
a
professor
in
an
impossible
faculty
of
ambiguity
,
a
sort
of
Empson
of
the
event
.
I
thought
and
thought
,
and
thought
again
,
and
arrived
at
nothing
.
Half
an
hour
and
five
attempts
later
the
lid
smoothly
gave
.
I
ran
up
into
the
trees
to
where
I
could
see
inland
,
but
the
landscape
was
empty
.
Behind
the
lid
stood
my
dufflebag
,
where
I
had
left
it
,
untouched
.
The
house
too
was
as
we
had
left
it
,
shuttered
blind
.
And
then
,
standing
under
the
colonnade
,
I
recalled
that
first
plan
:
how
Julie
would
have
been
waiting
in
my
room
while
I
raged
as
I
was
raging
then
over
at
Bourani
.
I
began
to
suspect
her
again
,
but
only
of
having
played
this
last
trick
,
this
doubly
false
coda
,
for
Conchis
.
I
started
walking
fast
down
the
track
to
the
gate
.
And
there
,
just
as
on
that
very
first
visit
,
I
found
that
I
had
been
left
a
clue
.
