light from a room where others are.
In the distance, with fairy-like fingers, the recollection of a certain memory flits past. It grazes Lol not long after she has lain down in the field, it portrays for her, at this late evening hour in the field of rye, this woman who is gazing up at a small rectangular window, a narrow stage, circumscribed as a stone, on which no actor has yet appeared. And perhaps Lol is afraid, but ever so slightly, of the possibility of an even greater separation from the others. She is none the less fully aware that some people would struggle—yesterday she still would have—that they would go running home as fast as they could the moment some vestige of reason had made them discover themselves in this field. But this is the last fear Lol has learned, the fear that others might have in her place, that evening. They would bravely destroy it within themselves. But she, on the contrary, cherishes it, tames it, caresses it with her hands on the rye.
Beyond the other side of the hotel, the horizon has lost its last traces of color. Night is falling.
The shadow of the man crosses the rectangle of light.
Once, then a second time, back in the opposite direction.
The light changes, grows brighter. Now it is no longer coming from the back of the room, to the left of the window, but from the ceiling.
In turn, Tatiana Karl, naked in her black hair, crosses the stage of light, slowly. It is perhaps in Lol's rectangle of vision that she pauses. She turns back to the room where the man presumably is.
The window is small, and no doubt Lol can see only the upper part of the lovers' bodies, from the waist up. Thus it is that she cannot see the full length of Tatiana's tresses.
From this distance she cannot hear them when they talk. All she can see is their facial expressions—coinciding with the movements of parts of their bodies— which bespeak disenchantment. Their words are few. But then, she can only see them when they pass back and forth, in line with the window, at the back of the room. The mute expressions on their faces are also much alike, Lol finds.
Again he passes through the light, dressed this time. And not long after him, Tatiana Karl, still naked: she stops, stretches, her head slightly raised and, pivoting the upper part of her body, her arms in the air, her hands ready to receive it, she pulls her hair around in front of her, coils it, and puts it up. Compared to the slenderness of her body, her breasts are heavy, time has wrought its damaging effect upon them, the only part of her body which has so suffered. Lol must remember how pristine and lovely they once had been. Tatiana Karl is the same age as Lol Stein.
I remember: the man comes over while she is busy fixing her hair, he leans over and buries his head in the supple, abundant mass, kisses her, while she, still busy putting up her hair, acquiesces, neutral and indolent.
They disappear from the window for a fairly long time.
Then Tatiana comes back again alone, with her hair down once more. This time she goes to the window, a cigarette in her mouth, and leans out.
Lol, I can see Lol: she does not stir. She knows that, unless they had been forewarned of her presence in the field, they would never be able to detect her. Tatiana does not see the dark spot in the rye.
Tatiana moves away from the window, to reappear dressed once more in her black suit. He too goes by, one last time, his suitcoat slung over his shoulder.
A moment later, the light goes out in the room.
A taxi, probably summoned by phone, stops in front of the hotel.
Lol gets up. It is completely dark now. She is numb, at first she has trouble walking, but she sets off at a brisk pace. When she reaches the small square she finds a taxi. It's time for dinner. She is terribly late.
Her husband is outside in the street, waiting, beside himself with worry.
She lies, and is believed. She tells them that she had to go all the way to the outskirts of town to do an errand,