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Finally
only
the
group
of
twelve
remained
.
Once
again
,
as
drilled
as
a
Sophoclean
chorus
,
they
bowed
,
then
turned
and
walked
out
.
The
men
stood
aside
for
the
women
to
lead
the
way
at
the
arch
and
Lily
was
the
first
to
disappear
.
But
when
the
last
of
the
men
had
gone
,
she
came
back
for
a
moment
in
the
archway
,
staring
at
me
as
I
stared
at
her
,
her
face
without
expression
,
without
gratitude
,
leaving
a
dozen
reasons
in
the
air
as
to
why
she
might
have
given
me
this
last
glimpse
;
or
herself
this
last
glimpse
of
me
.
I
was
alone
with
the
same
three
guards
who
had
brought
me
.
They
waited
a
minute
,
two
minutes
.
Adam
offered
me
a
cigarette
.
I
smoked
,
racked
between
an
anger
and
a
relief
,
between
a
feeling
that
I
should
have
made
some
excoriating
denunciation
of
them
and
and
all
their
practices
and
a
feeling
that
I
had
done
the
only
thing
that
could
leave
me
any
dignity
.
The
cigarette
was
almost
finished
when
Adam
looked
at
his
watch
,
then
at
me
.
"
Now
…
"
He
pointed
at
the
handcuffs
that
were
still
dangling
from
the
supports
of
the
arrnrests
.
"
Look
.
Finished
.
No
more
of
this
.
"
I
stood
up
,
but
my
arms
were
caught
at
once
.
I
took
a
deep
breath
.
Adam
shrugged
.
"
Bitte
.
"
I
let
myself
be
handcuffed
to
the
two
men
.
Then
he
came
with
the
gag
.
That
was
too
much
.
I
began
to
struggle
,
but
they
simply
jerked
me
sharply
back
onto
the
throne
;
once
again
choiceless
,
I
submitted
.
He
slipped
the
gag
over
my
head
,
this
time
without
taping
it
.
Then
I
was
masked
,
and
we
set
off
.
We
walked
through
the
archway
,
but
outside
we
turned
right
,
not
left
;
we
were
not
going
back
the
way
we
came
.
Twenty
or
thirty
paces
,
then
down
five
steps
and
apparently
into
yet
another
large
room
or
cistern
.
I
was
forced
backwards
,
there
was
a
fiddling
with
the
handcuffs
.
Then
my
left
arm
was
abruptly
raised
,
there
was
a
click
,
and
with
an
icy
new
apprehension
I
realized
what
they
had
done
.
I
had
been
fastened
to
the
flogging
frame
.
I
really
began
to
struggle
then
.
I
kicked
and
kneed
,
I
wrenched
at
the
man
to
whose
wrist
I
was
still
attached
.
They
could
have
beaten
me
up
at
will
.
There
were
three
of
them
and
I
couldn
’
t
see
and
it
was
ridiculous
.
But
they
must
have
been
under
orders
to
do
things
as
gently
as
possible
.
Eventually
they
forced
my
other
arm
up
and
linked
it
to
the
second
ring
.
The
mask
was
taken
off
.
It
was
a
very
long
narrow
room
,
another
cistern
,
but
lowervaulted
;
eighty
feet
long
and
about
twenty
wide
.
Halfway
down
was
a
white
cinema
screen
,
like
the
one
that
had
been
used
at
Bourani
.
Three
-
quarters
way
down
,
a
pair
of
drawn
black
curtains
stretched
the
width
of
the
room
.
The
obscure
end
wall
was
just
visible
over
their
tops
.
I
was
fixed
to
the
frame
,
but
frontways
on
,
and
it
had
been
set
against
the
wall
.
Just
in
front
of
me
and
slightly
to
my
right
was
a
small
cinema
projector
with
a
reel
of
i6
-
mrn
.
film
.
What
light
there
was
came
from
through
the
doorway
I
could
see
to
my
left
.
My
trio
of
blackshirts
wasted
no
time
.
They
went
to
the
projector
,
switched
it
on
,
checked
that
the
film
was
correctly
fed
and
then
set
it
going
.
It
began
with
the
black
wheel
on
white
,
as
if
it
was
a
film
company
emblem
.
One
of
the
men
adjusted
the
lens
focus
a
little
.
Adam
came
back
and
stood
in
front
of
me
—
out
of
reach
of
any
kick
I
might
attempt
—
and
spoke
.
"
The
disintoxication
.
"
I
understood
that
I
had
been
forced
to
"
forgive
"
so
that
I
could
be
moved
on
to
this
final
humiliation
;
a
metaphorical
,
if
not
a
literal
,
flogging
.
I
had
still
not
reached
the
bottom
.
I
was
alone
with
the
whirring
projector
and
whatever
lay
beyond
the
curtains
.
The
emblem
faded
and
words
appeared
.
POLYMUS
FILMSPRESENTThe
screen
went
white
for
a
moment
.
Then
:
THE
SHAMEFUL
TRUTHThe
black
wheel
.
Then
:
WITHTHE
FABULOUS
WHOREIOA
blank
.
WHO
YOU
WILL
REMEMBER
ASISISASTARTEKALIA
long
blank
.
AND
AS
THE
CAPTIVATINGLILY
MONTGOMERYThere
was
a
brief
shot
of
Lily
kneeling
behind
a
man
.
It
had
almost
ended
before
I
realized
that
the
man
was
myself
.
Someone
,
Conchis
,
must
have
taken
us
with
a
telephoto
lens
,
the
day
she
recited
"
The
frog
he
would
a
-
wooing
go
"
;
she
had
even
warned
me
he
was
using
exactly
such
a
camera
.
AS
THE
UNFORGETTABLY
DESIRABLEJULIE
HOLMESAnother
brief
shot
:
I
was
standing
and
kissing
her
in
bright
sunlight
.
The
vegetable
-
garden
terrace
.
She
wore
the
white
linen
suit
.
It
had
been
done
on
that
last
morning
at
Bourani
,
after
the
others
had
left
.
AND
AS
THE
LEARNED
AND
COURAGEOUSVANESSA
MAXWELLThis
time
it
was
a
still
.
She
was
behind
a
desk
,
a
laboratory
desk
covered
with
papers
.
A
rack
of
test
tubes
.
A
microscope
.
Madame
Curie
.
AND
NOW
IN
HER
GREATEST
ROLE
ASThe
wheel
reappeared
for
a
moment
.
HERSELF
!
Blank
film
.
Then
a
fade
-
in
shot
of
Joe
in
his
jackal
mask
running
down
the
track
towards
the
house
at
Bourani
;
a
devil
in
sunlight
;
he
ran
right
up
into
the
camera
lens
,
blacking
it
out
.
CO
-
STARRINGTHE
MONSTER
OF
THE
MISSISSIPPIA
blank
.
JOE
HARRISONThe
wheel
again
.
AS
HIMSELFThen
there
were
words
in
an
over
-
ornamented
frame
:
—
—
—
—
—
—
-
Lady
Jane
,
a
depravedyoung
aristocrat
,
in
herhotel
room
—
—
—
—
—
—
-
I
was
going
to
see
a
blue
film
.
It
began
:
a
lushly
furnished
,
frill
-
laden
bedroom
in
Edwardian
style
.
Lily
appeared
in
a
peignoir
,
her
hair
down
.
The
peignoir
gaped
absurdly
over
a
black
corset
.
She
stopped
by
a
chair
to
adjust
a
stocking
,
in
a
hackneyed
leg
-
showing
routine
,
though
the
close
-
up
also
allowed
her
to
show
the
scarred
wrist
.
She
looked
suddenly
towards
the
door
,
and
called
something
.
A
page
entered
with
a
letter
on
a
tray
.
She
took
it
and
the
page
left
.
Shot
of
her
opening
the
letter
,
sneering
,
and
tossing
it
aside
.
The
camera
closed
on
the
letter
on
the
floor
.
The
quality
of
the
film
was
bubbly
and
blistery
,
badly
synchronized
,
like
early
silent
film
.
Another
ffickering
framed
title
appeared
.
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
-
…
now
I
know
the
abominable
truth
aboutyour
perverted
lusts
,
all
is
over
between
us
.
I
remain
,
but
not
for
long
,
your
disgustedhusband
…
LORD
de
VERE
!
"
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
-
A
new
shot
.
Lily
was
lying
on
the
bed
,
with
the
camera
shooting
down
on
her
.
The
peignoir
had
gone
.
The
corset
,
fishnet
stockings
.
She
had
managed
to
give
her
heavily
rouged
and
mascara
’
d
face
a
suitably
pouting
and
femme
fatale
look
,
but
the
visual
effect
was
not
far
removed
from
the
verbal
:
like
so
much
pornography
—
in
this
case
I
supposed
intentionally
—
it
was
dangerously
near
the
ridiculous
.
It
was
all
to
end
in
a
joke
;
a
joke
in
bad
taste
,
but
a
joke
.
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
-
Panting
with
desire
she
waits
for
the
arrivalof
her
coal
-
black
partner
in
unspeakable
sin
.
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
-
Back
to
the
same
shot
.
Suddenly
she
sat
up
with
a
leer
on
the
French
brothel
brass
bed
.
Someone
else
had
come
in
.
—
—
—
—
—
—
The
entry
of
Black
Bull
,
a
vaudeville
singer
—
—
—
—
—
—
A
shot
of
the
open
door
.
It
was
Joe
,
dressed
in
absurdly
tight
trousers
and
a
sort
of
loose
-
sleeved
white
blouse
.
More
like
a
black
bullfighter
than
a
black
bull
.
He
closed
the
door
;
a
smouldering
look
.
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
-
The
only
language
they
know
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
-
The
film
veered
into
nastiness
.
There
was
a
shot
of
her
running
to
meet
him
.
He
stepped
forward
and
gripped
her
by
the
arms
and
then
they
were
kissing
wildly
.
He
forced
her
back
to
the
bed
and
they
fell
across
it
.
Then
she
rolled
on
top
of
him
,
covering
his
face
,
his
neck
in
kisses
.
An
echo
of
the
hotel
on
Phraxos
.
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
-
A
buck
nigger
and
a
white
woman
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
-
She
was
standing
in
the
black
underwear
,
against
the
wall
,
her
arms
out
,
another
vicious
echo
of
the
night
in
the
hotel
.
Of
course
the
incidents
of
that
night
had
been
echoes
of
the
already
made
film
.
Joe
was
kneeling
in
front
of
her
,
bare
above
the
waist
,
feeling
with
open
hands
up
over
her
corset
to
her
breasts
.
She
caught
his
head
and
pressed
it
against
her
.
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
For
this
she
has
sacrificed
a
lovinghusband
,
lovely
children
,
friends
,
relations
,
religion
,
all
.
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
Next
there
came
a
five
-
second
fetishist
interlude
.
He
was
lying
on
the
floor
.
There
was
a
close
shot
of
a
naked
leg
ending
in
a
foot
in
a
high
-
heeled
black
shoe
resting
on
his
stomach
.
He
caressed
it
with
his
hands
.
I
began
to
suspect
.
It
could
easily
have
been
any
white
woman
’
s
leg
;
and
any
black
man
’
s
stomach
and
hands
.
—
—
—
—
Passion
rises
—
—
—
—
A
shot
across
the
room
of
her
pressing
him
back
against
the
wall
,
kissing
him
.
His
hand
slipped
round
her
back
and
began
to
unhook
the
corset
.
A
long
bare
back
,
a
very
short
echo
,
bound
in
black
arms
.
The
camera
closed
,
then
tracked
down
clumsily
.
A
black
hand
moved
suggestively
into
shot
.
Joe
was
now
apparently
naked
,
though
hidden
by
her
white
body
.
I
could
see
his
face
,
but
the
quality
of
the
film
was
so
bad
that
I
could
not
be
sure
it
was
Joe
.
And
her
face
was
invisible
throughout
.
—
—
—
—
Shameless
—
—
—
—
I
forced
myself
to
be
more
suspicious
than
shocked
.
A
series
of
very
short
shots
.
Bare
white
breasts
,
bare
black
thighs
;
two
naked
figures
on
the
bed
.
But
the
camera
was
too
far
back
to
make
identification
possible
.
The
woman
’
s
blonde
hair
began
to
seem
too
blonde
,
too
shiny
:
wiglike
.
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
Decent
people
lead
ordinary
liveswhile
this
bestial
orgy
takes
place
.
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
—
A
street
shot
in
a
city
I
did
not
recognize
,
though
it
looked
American
.
Crowded
pavements
,
a
rush
hour
.
It
was
of
better
quality
than
the
other
sequences
and
had
obviously
been
cut
in
from
some
other
film
;
and
it
made
the
"
blue
"
sequences
seem
even
more
antiquated
and
claustrophobic
.
—
—
—
—
Obscene
caresses
—
—
—
—
An
anonymous
white
hand
stroked
an
anonymous
phallus
in
one
of
the
most
unexceptionable
caresses
of
love
.
Its
obscenity
lay
in
the
fact
that
two
people
could
lie
and
be
photographed
doing
it
.
But
it
was
the
wrist
of
the
right
,
the
unscarred
hand
that
was
in
the
frame
;
and
although
it
made
a
playful
flute
-
fingering
gesture
,
I
was
becoming
more
and
more
suspicious
.
—
—
—
—
The
invitation
—
—
—
—
There
was
the
most
brutally
pornographic
shot
yet
,
down
angled
,
of
the
girl
lying
on
the
bed
.
Once
again
it
did
not
reveal
her
face
,
which
was
twisted
back
almost
out
of
sight
.
It
showed
her
waiting
to
receive
the
Negro
,
whose
blurred
dark
back
was
close
to
the
camera
.
—
—
—
—
Meanwhile
—
—
—
—
Suddenly
the
quality
of
the
film
changed
.
It
was
shot
,
very
jerkily
,
by
a
different
camera
in
different
circumstances
.
Two
people
in
a
crowded
restaurant
.
With
an
acute
shock
,
a
flush
of
bitter
anger
,
I
saw
who
it
was
:
Alison
and
myself
,
that
first
evening
,
in
the
Piraeus
.
There
was
a
flash
of
blank
film
,
then
another
shot
of
us
,
which
for
a
moment
I
could
not
place
.
Alison
walking
down
a
steep
village
street
,
myself
a
yard
or
two
behind
her
.
We
both
looked
exhausted
;
and
though
it
was
too
far
to
see
the
facial
expressions
,
one
could
tell
from
that
gap
between
us
,
the
way
we
walked
,
that
we
were
miserable
.
I
recognized
it
:
our
return
to
Arachova
.
The
cameraman
must
have
been
hidden
in
a
cottage
,
shooting
from
behind
a
shutter
perhaps
,
because
a
transverse
black
bar
obscured
the
end
of
the
shot
.
I
remembered
the
wartime
sequence
of
Wimmel
.
I
also
recognized
the
implications
;
that
we
had
been
followed
,
watched
and
filmed
throughout
.
It
would
not
have
been
possible
on
the
bare
upper
slopes
of
Parnassus
,
but
in
the
trees
…
I
remembered
the
pool
,
the
sun
on
my
naked
back
and
Alison
beneath
me
.
It
was
too
horrible
,
too
blasphemous
,
that
that
,
of
all
moments
,
could
have
been
public
.
Stripped
,
flayed
by
the
knowledge
;
and
their
always
knowing
.
Blank
film
again
.
Then
another
title
.
—
—
—
—
—
-
The
act
of
copulation
—
—
—
—
—
-
But
the
film
ran
through
a
series
of
numbers
and
flashing
white
scratches
:
the
end
of
the
reel
.
There
was
a
ffipping
sound
from
the
projector
.
The
screen
stared
white
.
Someone
ran
in
through
the
door
and
switched
the
projector
off
.
I
gave
a
grunt
of
contempt
;
I
had
been
waiting
for
that
failure
of
nerve
,
of
the
courage
of
their
pornography
.
But
the
man
—
I
saw
by
the
faint
light
through
the
door
that
it
was
Adam
—
walked
to
the
screen
and
lifted
it
aside
.
I
was
left
alone
again
.
For
thirty
seconds
or
so
the
room
remailled
in
darkness
.
Then
light
came
from
behind
the
curtains
.
Someone
began
to
pull
them
,
from
behind
,
by
cords
,
as
they
do
for
plays
in
parish
halls
.
When
they
were
about
two
-
thirds
open
,
they
stopped
;
but
long
before
that
the
parallel
with
parish
halls
had
vanished
.
The
light
came
from
a
shade
hung
from
the
ceiling
.
It
let
no
light
through
,
so
that
the
illumination
was
thrown
down
in
a
brilliant
,
intimate
cone
onto
what
lay
beneath
.
A
low
couch
,
covered
by
a
huge
golden
-
tawny
rug
,
perhaps
an
Afghan
carpet
.
On
it
,
superbly
white
and
completely
naked
,
was
Lily
.
She
was
lying
against
a
mound
of
pillows
,
deep
gold
,
amber
,
rose
,
maroon
,
themselves
piled
against
an
ornate
gilt
and
carved
headboard
.
She
was
turned
sideways
towards
me
in
a
deliberate
imitation
of
Goya
’
s
Maja
Desnuda
.
Her
hands
behind
her
head
,
her
nakedness
offered
.
Not
flaunted
,
but
offered
,
stated
as
a
divine
and
immemorial
fact
.
A
bare
armpit
,
as
sexual
as
a
loin
.
Nipples
the
color
of
cornelians
,
as
if
they
alone
in
all
that
cream
-
white
skin
had
been
,
or
could
be
,
bitten
and
bruised
.
The
tapering
curves
,
thighs
,
ankles
,
small
bare
feet
.
And
the
level
,
unmoving
eyes
staring
with
a
kind
of
arrogant
calm
into
the
shadows
where
I
hung
.
Beyond
her
,
on
the
rear
wall
,
had
been
painted
an
arcade
of
slender
white
arches
.
I
thought
at
first
that
they
were
meant
to
represent
Bourani
;
but
they
were
too
narrow
,
and
had
slender
Moorish
-
ogive
tops
.
Goya
…
the
Alhambra
?
I
realized
the
couch
was
not
legless
,
but
that
the
far
end
of
the
room
was
on
a
slightly
lower
level
,
rather
like
a
Roman
bath
.
The
curtains
had
concealed
further
steps
down
.
The
gleaming
body
lay
in
its
greenish
-
tawny
lake
of
light
,
without
movement
;
and
she
stared
at
me
as
from
a
canvas
.
The
tableau
pose
was
held
so
long
that
I
began
to
think
this
was
the
great
finale
;
this
living
painting
,
this
naked
enigma
,
this
forever
unattainable
.
I
had
assumed
it
was
Lily
,
but
I
could
not
see
the
scar
,
and
I
began
to
waver
.
It
was
Lily
;
it
was
Rose
;
then
Lily
again
.
Minutes
passed
.
The
lovely
body
lay
in
its
mystery
.
