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There
was
no
lessening
of
her
hostility
.
I
think
that
unlike
Gustav
she
had
divined
her
husband
’
s
secret
,
that
any
attempt
to
cure
him
would
kill
him
.
Gustav
and
his
nephew
rowed
me
the
twenty
miles
north
to
the
next
farm
.
We
shook
hands
,
we
promised
to
write
.
I
could
offer
no
consolation
and
I
do
not
think
he
wanted
any
,
for
there
are
situations
in
which
consolation
only
threatens
the
equilibrium
that
time
has
instituted
.
And
so
I
returned
to
France
.
"
Lily
glanced
at
him
,
then
at
me
,
as
if
it
was
for
me
to
say
something
.
I
half
expected
to
hear
a
voice
calling
in
Norwegian
from
Moutsa
,
or
to
see
some
brilliantly
contrived
pillar
of
fire
rise
out
of
the
trees
.
But
there
was
a
long
silence
:
only
the
crickets
cheeping
.
"
You
never
went
back
there
?
"
"
Sometimes
to
return
is
a
vulgarity
.
"
"
But
you
must
have
been
curious
to
know
how
it
all
ended
?
"
"
Not
at
all
.
Perhaps
one
day
,
Nicholas
,
you
will
have
an
experience
that
means
a
great
deal
to
you
.
"
I
could
hear
no
irony
in
his
voice
,
but
it
was
implicit
.
"
You
will
then
realize
what
I
mean
when
I
say
that
some
experiences
so
possess
you
that
the
one
thing
you
cannot
tolerate
is
the
thought
of
their
not
being
in
some
way
forever
present
.
Seidevarre
is
a
place
I
do
not
want
time
to
touch
.
So
I
am
not
interested
in
what
it
is
now
.
Or
what
they
are
now
.
If
they
still
are
.
"
"
But
you
said
you
would
write
to
Gustav
?
"
"
So
I
did
.
He
wrote
to
me
.
He
wrote
for
two
years
with
regularity
,
at
least
once
a
season
.
But
he
never
referred
to
what
interests
you
—
except
to
say
that
the
situation
was
unchanged
.
His
letters
were
full
of
ornithological
notes
.
They
became
very
dull
reading
,
because
I
no
longer
took
any
interest
in
the
classifying
aspects
of
natural
history
.
Our
letters
became
very
infrequent
.
I
think
I
had
a
Christmas
card
from
him
in
1926
or
1927
.
Since
then
,
no
sound
.
He
is
dead
now
.
Henrik
is
dead
,
Ragnar
is
dead
.
Multa
docet
fames
.
"
It
was
Lily
who
translated
.
"
Hunger
teaches
many
things
.
"
"
Death
starves
us
of
life
.
So
we
learn
to
fabricate
our
own
immortalities
.
"
"
What
happened
to
you
when
you
got
back
to
France
?
"
"
Something
you
will
not
believe
.
I
saw
Henrik
meet
his
pillar
of
fire
at
about
midnight
on
August
17
,
1922
.
The
fire
at
Givray
-
le
-
Duc
began
at
the
same
hour
of
the
same
night
.
"
"
Heavens
!
"
"
Good
Lord
.
"
Lily
and
I
spoke
together
,
though
her
voice
sounded
far
more
convincingly
amazed
than
mine
.
I
said
,
"
You
’
re
not
suggesting
…
"
"
I
am
suggesting
nothing
.
There
was
no
connection
between
the
events
.
No
connection
is
possible
.
Or
rather
,
I
am
the
connection
,
I
am
whatever
meaning
the
coincidence
has
.
"
There
was
an
unusual
shade
of
vanity
in
his
voice
,
as
if
in
fact
he
believed
he
had
in
some
way
precipitated
both
events
and
their
common
timing
.
I
sensed
that
the
coincidence
was
not
literally
true
,
but
something
he
had
invented
,
which
held
another
,
metaphorical
,
meaning
:
that
the
two
episodes
were
linked
in
significance
,
that
I
was
to
use
both
to
interpret
him
.
Just
as
the
story
of
de
Deukans
had
thrown
light
on
Conchis
himself
,
this
threw
light
on
the
hypnosis
—
that
image
he
had
used
,
"
reality
breaking
through
the
thin
net
of
science
"
…
I
had
myself
recalled
something
too
similar
from
the
hypnosis
for
it
to
be
coincidence
.
Everywhere
in
the
masque
,
these
interrelationships
,
threads
between
circumstance
.
He
turned
parentally
to
Lily
.
"
My
dear
,
I
think
it
is
your
bedtime
.
"
I
looked
at
my
watch
.
It
was
eleven
twenty
-
five
.
Lily
gave
a
little
shrug
,
as
if
the
matter
of
bedtime
was
unimportant
.
She
said
,
"
Do
you
feel
possessed
by
them
?
I
know
I
feel
some
people
possess
me
.
"
She
looked
to
me
for
confirmation
,
though
the
question
was
to
Conchis
;
and
the
question
seemed
,
oddly
,
to
come
out
of
her
real
self
,
reinforcing
the
impression
I
had
had
throughout
:
that
the
story
of
Seidevarre
was
as
new
to
her
as
it
was
to
me
.
It
was
as
if
she
had
become
another
guest
,
an
older
friend
of
the
house
than
myself
,
but
still
a
guest
;
and
was
trying
,
just
as
I
was
,
to
assess
the
meaning
of
the
parable
.
"
All
that
is
past
possesses
our
present
.
Seidevarre
possesses
Bourani
.
Whatever
happens
here
now
,
whatever
governs
what
happens
,
is
partly
,
no
,
is
essentially
,
what
happened
thirty
years
ago
in
that
Norwegian
forest
.
"
He
spoke
to
her
then
as
he
so
often
spoke
to
me
;
he
was
commencing
another
shift
in
our
relationships
,
or
the
pretenses
that
ruled
them
.
In
some
way
we
were
now
both
his
students
,
his
disciples
.
I
remembered
that
favorite
Victorian
picture
of
the
bearded
Elizabethan
seaman
pointing
to
sea
and
telling
a
story
to
two
little
goggleeyed
boys
.
A
look
passed
between
Lily
and
myself
,
and
I
could
have
sworn
that
she
was
feeling
slightly
the
same
as
I
was
—
that
any
clandestine
meeting
between
us
now
involved
a
fresh
element
of
betrayal
.
"
Well
.
I
must
go
.
"
She
slipped
the
mask
of
formality
back
on
.
We
all
stood
.
"
Maurice
,
that
was
so
remarkable
and
so
interesting
.
"
Conchis
kissed
her
hand
,
and
then
she
reached
it
to
me
,
but
with
the
wrist
turned
,
and
I
shook
it
.
One
shadow
of
conspiracy
in
her
eyes
,
one
minute
pressure
of
her
fingers
,
told
me
that
she
was
still
,
in
spite
of
the
higher
price
,
prepared
to
betray
.
She
turned
to
go
;
then
stopped
.
"
Oh
,
I
am
sorry
.
I
did
not
replace
your
matches
.
"
"
That
’
s
all
right
.
Please
.
"
Conchis
and
I
were
silent
.
I
heard
footsteps
going
rapidly
across
the
gravel
towards
the
sea
,
and
I
strained
to
glimpse
her
,
but
without
success
.
I
thought
,
if
they
put
some
trick
on
me
now
,
it
will
be
a
proof
that
she
is
playing
for
Conchis
and
against
me
;
a
proof
beyond
doubt
.
I
smiled
across
the
table
at
his
shadowed
face
;
the
pupils
of
his
eyes
seemed
black
in
their
clear
whites
;
a
mask
that
watched
me
,
watched
me
.
"
No
illustrations
to
the
text
tonight
?
"
"
Does
it
need
illustrations
?
"
"
No
.
You
told
it
…
very
well
.
"
He
shrugged
dismissively
;
then
waved
his
arm
briefly
round
:
at
home
,
at
trees
,
at
sea
.
"
This
is
the
illustration
.
Things
as
they
are
.
In
my
small
domaine
.
"
"
The
masque
.
"
"
The
masque
is
a
metaphor
.
I
told
you
that
.
"
His
unshifting
eyes
read
mine
.
"
You
are
never
quite
sure
whether
you
are
my
guest
or
victim
.
You
are
neither
.
You
are
something
else
.
"
I
looked
down
under
his
eyes
,
then
up
.
"
What
?
"
"
If
you
must
speculate
,
explore
other
possibilities
.
But
remember
.
What
it
is
,
has
no
name
.
"
He
stood
up
,
as
if
he
had
really
only
been
waiting
for
a
certain
time
,
I
presumed
the
time
for
Lily
to
"
disappear
,
"
to
pass
.
As
I
stood
as
well
I
said
,
"
Thank
you
.
Once
again
.
For
possessing
me
.
He
grinned
then
,
his
monkey
grin
,
and
took
my
elbow
as
we
walked
towards
the
door
of
his
room
.
The
Bonnards
glowed
gently
from
the
inner
wall
.
On
the
landing
outside
,
I
came
to
a
decision
.
"
I
think
I
’
ll
go
for
a
stroll
,
Mr
.
Conchis
.
I
don
’
t
feel
very
sleepy
.
Just
down
to
Moutsa
.
"
I
knew
he
might
say
that
he
would
come
with
me
and
so
make
it
impossible
to
be
at
the
statue
at
midnight
;
but
it
was
a
countertrap
for
him
,
an
insurance
for
me
.
If
he
let
me
go
out
alone
,
then
it
would
be
that
he
wanted
me
to
walk
into
the
trap
,
if
there
was
a
trap
;
and
if
he
was
genuinely
innocent
of
the
assignation
,
I
could
still
—
if
discovered
and
then
accused
—
pretend
that
I
had
assumed
he
was
not
.
"
As
you
wish
.
"
He
put
out
his
hand
in
his
foreign
way
and
clasped
mine
with
unusual
warmth
,
and
watched
me
for
a
moment
as
I
went
downstairs
.
But
before
I
had
reached
the
bottom
I
heard
his
door
close
.
He
might
be
out
on
the
terrace
listening
,
so
I
crunched
noisily
over
the
gravel
to
the
track
out
of
Bourani
.
But
at
the
gate
instead
of
turning
down
to
Moutsa
I
went
on
up
the
hill
for
fifty
yards
or
so
and
sat
down
against
a
tree
trunk
,
from
where
I
could
watch
the
entrance
and
the
track
.
It
was
a
dark
night
,
no
moon
,
but
the
stars
diffused
a
very
faint
luminescence
over
everything
,
a
light
like
the
softest
sound
,
touch
of
fur
on
ebony
.
My
heart
was
beating
faster
than
it
should
.
It
was
partly
at
the
thought
of
meeting
Lily
,
partly
at
something
far
more
mysterious
,
the
sense
that
I
was
now
deep
in
the
strangest
maze
in
Europe
.
I
remembered
the
feeling
I
had
had
one
morning
walking
back
to
the
school
;
of
being
Odysseus
or
Theseus
.
Now
I
was
Theseus
in
the
maze
;
somewhere
in
the
darkness
Ariadne
waited
;
and
the
Minotaur
.
I
sat
there
for
quarter
of
an
hour
,
smoking
but
shielding
the
red
tip
from
view
,
ears
alert
and
eyes
alert
.
Nobody
came
;
and
nobody
went
.
At
five
to
twelve
I
slipped
back
through
the
gate
and
struck
off
eastwards
through
the
trees
to
the
gulley
.
I
moved
slowly
,
stopping
frequently
.
I
reached
the
gulley
,
waited
,
then
crossed
it
and
walked
as
silently
as
I
could
up
the
path
to
the
clearing
with
the
statue
.
It
came
,
majestic
shadow
,
into
sight
.
The
seat
under
the
almond
tree
was
deserted
.
I
stood
in
the
starlight
at
the
edge
of
the
clearing
,
very
tense
,
certain
that
something
was
about
to
happen
,
straining
to
see
if
there
was
anyone
in
the
dense
black
background
.
I
had
an
idea
it
might
be
a
man
with
blue
eyes
and
an
axe
.
There
was
a
loud
ching
.
Someone
had
thrown
a
stone
and
hit
the
statue
.
I
stepped
into
the
darkness
of
the
pine
tree
beside
me
.
Then
I
saw
a
movement
,
and
an
instant
later
another
stone
,
a
pebble
,
rolled
across
the
ground
in
front
of
me
.
The
movement
showed
a
gleam
of
white
,
and
it
came
from
behind
a
tree
on
my
side
of
the
clearing
,
higher
up
.
I
knew
it
was
Lily
.
I
ran
up
the
steep
slope
,
stumbled
once
,
then
stood
.
She
was
standing
beside
the
tree
,
in
the
thickest
shadow
.
I
could
see
her
white
dress
inside
the
opened
cloak
,
her
blonde
hair
,
and
suddenly
she
reached
forward
with
both
hands
.
In
four
long
strides
I
got
to
her
and
her
arms
went
round
me
,
the
cloak
fell
,
and
we
were
kissing
,
one
long
wild
kiss
that
lasted
,
with
one
or
two
gulps
for
air
,
for
a
fevered
readjustment
of
the
embrace
,
and
lasted
…
in
that
time
I
thought
I
’
finally
knew
her
.
She
had
abandoned
all
pretense
,
she
was
hot
,
passionate
,
she
kissed
with
her
tongue
as
prim
1915
could
never
have
kissed
.
She
let
me
have
her
body
;
met
mine
.
I
murmured
one
or
two
torn
endearments
,
but
she
stopped
my
mouth
.
A
torrent
of
feelings
rushed
through
me
;
the
knowledge
that
I
was
hopelessly
in
love
with
her
.
I
had
wanted
other
girls
.
Alison
.
But
for
the
first
time
in
my
life
I
wanted
desperately
to
be
wanted
in
return
.
She
stroked
the
side
of
my
face
,
and
I
turned
to
kiss
her
hand
;
caught
it
;
and
brushed
my
lips
down
its
side
and
round
the
wrist
to
the
scar
on
the
back
.
A
second
later
I
had
let
go
of
her
and
was
reaching
in
my
pocket
for
the
matches
.
I
struck
one
and
lifted
her
left
hand
.
It
was
scarless
.
I
raised
the
match
.
The
eyes
,
the
mouth
,
the
shape
of
the
chin
,
everything
about
her
was
like
Lily
.
But
she
was
not
Lily
.
There
were
little
puckers
at
the
corner
of
her
mouth
,
a
slight
over
-
alertness
in
the
look
,
a
sort
of
calculated
impudence
;
a
much
more
modern
face
,
though
it
could
belong
only
to
a
twin
sister
.
She
sustained
my
stare
,
then
looked
down
,
then
up
again
under
her
eyelashes
;
she
had
Lily
’
s
mischievousness
,
but
not
her
cool
gentleness
.
"
Damn
.
"
I
flicked
the
match
away
,
and
struck
another
.
She
promptly
blew
it
out
.
"
Nicholas
.
"
A
low
,
reproachful
—
and
strange
—
voice
.
"
There
must
be
some
mistake
.
Nicholas
is
my
twin
brother
.
"
"
I
thought
midnight
would
never
come
.
"
"
Where
is
she
?
"
I
spoke
angrily
,
and
I
was
angry
,
but
not
quite
as
much
as
I
sounded
.
It
was
so
neat
a
modulation
into
the
world
of
Beaumarchais
,
of
Restoration
comedy
;
and
I
knew
the
height
the
dupe
has
fallen
is
measured
by
his
anger
.
"
She
?
"
"
You
forgot
your
scar
.
"
"
How
clever
of
you
to
see
it
was
makeup
before
.
"
"
And
your
voice
.
"
"
It
’
s
the
night
air
.
"
She
coughed
.
I
caught
hold
of
her
hand
and
pulled
her
roughly
over
to
the
seat
under
the
almond
tree
.
Lily
had
never
intended
to
meet
me
;
it
was
not
the
kind
of
trap
I
had
been
expecting
,
but
it
was
still
a
trap
,
with
all
the
same
implications
for
Lily
’
s
honesty
of
intention
.
"
Now
.
Where
is
she
?
"
"
She
couldn
’
t
come
.
And
don
’
t
be
so
rough
.
"
"
Well
where
is
she
?
"
The
girl
was
silent
.
"
In
bed
with
Maurice
?
"
"
Shame
on
you
.
"
"
I
don
’
t
think
you
’
re
very
sensitive
to
shame
.
"
"
I
thought
it
was
rather
exciting
.
"
She
glanced
sideways
at
me
.
"
And
so
did
you
.
"
"
For
Christ
sake
I
thought
you
…
"
but
I
didn
’
t
bother
to
finish
the
sentence
.
"
Perhaps
you
ought
to
kiss
me
again
.
"
She
sat
as
Lily
had
sat
that
other
afternoon
,
in
a
deliberate
parody
of
the
same
position
.
Her
eyes
shut
,
her
mouth
slightly
thrust
forward
,
as
if
waiting
to
be
kissed
.
I
ignored
her
,
leant
forward
,
and
tried
to
be
lighter
.
"
Why
must
I
be
tormented
like
this
?
"
"
Is
kissing
me
torment
?
"
I
turned
and
smiled
;
as
if
I
admitted
being
the
fool
.
"
Have
a
cigarette
?
"
I
fished
out
a
packet
of
Papastratos
and
she
took
one
;
screwed
it
into
a
long
black
cigarette
holder
she
carried
in
a
little
silver
wrist
bag
.
I
gave
her
a
good
look
in
the
match
flare
;
and
she
examined
me
,
as
if
she
was
not
feeling
so
frivolous
as
she
pretended
.
She
inhaled
expertly
.
Her
face
had
,
under
the
soubrette
part
she
was
playing
,
the
same
intelligence
as
Lily
’
s
;
and
for
a
moment
I
had
a
mad
feeling
that
after
all
it
was
Lily
.
But
I
clung
to
the
moment
I
had
seen
her
on
the
terrace
;
when
Lily
had
had
to
have
a
twin
sister
.
Finally
she
gave
a
little
embarrassed
smile
,
avoided
my
stare
;
as
if
at
a
loss
.
"
How
was
Beirut
?
"
She
was
taken
by
surprise
;
abruptly
cautious
.
"
Who
told
you
about
that
?
"
"
Your
sister
.
"
"
It
was
nice
.
And
she
didn
’
t
.
"
Her
face
was
suspicious
;
all
the
lightness
had
gone
.
"
All
right
.
She
didn
’
t
.
Maurice
did
.
"
"
I
see
.
"
Her
voice
was
cold
,
still
inexplicably
wary
of
something
.
"
Is
there
some
crime
in
asking
you
how
Beirut
was
?
"
For
answer
she
reached
out
and
took
the
box
of
matches
I
still
had
in
my
hand
;
struck
one
.
I
received
a
second
prolonged
scrutiny
.
I
smiled
,
to
show
her
I
was
totally
unfooled
;
but
prepared
to
play
a
part
in
this
new
variation
.
"
What
are
you
looking
for
?
"
"
Treachery
.
Or
trustworthiness
.
"
"
I
’
m
not
sure
you
can
be
much
of
a
judge
of
that
,
either
.
"
"
I
know
.
If
you
are
trustworthy
you
must
think
we
’
re
treacherous
.
And
vice
versa
.
It
’
s
very
neat
.
"
She
stood
up
and
walked
behind
the
seat
.
I
looked
round
,
and
she
was
staring
down
at
me
.
But
then
she
came
and
sat
down
again
,
close
,
elbows
on
knees
like
myself
.
"
Look
,
Nicholas
,
I
’
m
sorry
about
the
teasing
.
Which
was
really
testing
.
I
do
believe
you
.
"
A
quick
,
bright
-
sincere
look
.
"
Could
we
get
back
to
your
sister
?
"
"
She
couldn
’
t
come
.
And
anyway
.
"
"
Anyway
what
?
"
"
You
know
.
"
"
I
know
nothing
.
"
It
was
agreeable
,
pretending
to
be
disagreeable
.
She
leant
backward
and
stretched
her
arm
along
the
seat
back
,
and
contemplated
me
.
