The Demon Lover (19 page)

Think constructively, I told myself. How am I going to get out of this place? I must make a plan.

I went into the toilet room to look at myself in my robe and sandals.

I had been transformed. I had never worn anything like this before. I looked almost beautiful with my hair hanging loose and the green and gold of the furred robe did something to my eyes. They looked bigger and brighter. I am different, I thought. He has made me different.

There was a little table in the room I called the dining room. It was by the window and on it were several pencils with a sketching-pad.

He had put that there for me, I thought.

I went to it and savagely drew his face. I sketched in that part of Notre Dame where I had seen the most grotesque of all the gargoyles -the one which leans on the parapet by the door at the top of the steps and seems to be gazing malevolently towards the Invalides.

I went on sketching. It was wonderful how it soothed me.

The woman came back and cleaned the place; she made the bed and removed the ashes from the fireplace, laying another.

I wanted to scream out because it all seemed so normal. It vas as though I were a visitor in some friend’s house.

She said: “I’ll bring up your dejeuner at half past twelve if that suits.”

I said: “How am I to know it has not been treated with something which would not be good for me?”

“I’ve had no orders,” she said seriously.

I wanted to laugh in a rather hysterical way, I knew, so I suppressed it.

She brought in the food. It was a delicious soup with meat and salad and fruit.

Oddly enough, I could eat it, and in due course she came to collect the tray.

“I should have a little rest,” she said.

“You need it … to sleep off what we had to give you. You’ll be tired still.”

It’s mad, I thought. Am I really in this incongruous position? “

I obeyed her though and lay on the bed. I did sleep long and deep; and when I awoke my first thought was: He will come again. Of course he will come again. Otherwise, why should they hold me here.

At dusk it was the woman who came. She brought more water for me to wash. I did so. I heard her in the dining-room and when I went to see what she was doing for she seemed a long time-I found her setting the table for two. There was a silver candelabrum in the centre.

I thought: Then I am expected to sup with him as though all was well between us.

I would never do that. I would refuse to sit down with him.

I went back to the bedroom and stood by the barred window. I tried to shake the bars, but they were firmly embedded in the stone. I wondered then how many had stood at that window in desperation. I wondered what tortures had been inflicted on them in this place.

Who would have believed this could happen in these days? How easily people slipped back into savagery. That man did not have to slip back.

He had never been anything else but a savage.

There was a movement behind me and he was there, smiling at me.

That reminded me afresh and I felt the bitter humiliation creeping over me. I wished that I could have remembered, and then I was glad that I had not. There had been moments of consciousness and later when I had been coming out of my drowsiness he had taken me . almost casually. , I hated him. How I hated him! My father used to say, “Envy is a negative emotion. It hurts the one who feels it more than the one against whom it is directed.” So with hatred.

Think constructively, I told myself. How am I going to get out of this place? I must make a plan.

I went into the toilet room to look at myself in my robe and sandals.

I had been transformed. I had never worn anything like this before. I looked almost beautiful with my hair hanging loose and the green and gold of the furred robe did something to my eyes. They looked bigger and brighter. I am different, I thought. He has made me different.

There was a little table in the room I called the dining room. It was by the window and on it were several pencils with a sketching-pad.

He had put that there for me, I thought.

I went to it and savagely drew his face. I sketched in that part of Notre Dame where I had seen the most grotesque of all the gargoyles -the one which leans on the parapet by the door at the top of the steps and seems to be gazing malevolently towards the Invalides.

I went on sketching. It was wonderful how it soothed me.

The woman came back and cleaned the place; she made the bed and removed the ashes from the fireplace, laying another.

I wanted to scream out because it all seemed so normal. It was as though I were a visitor in some friend’s house.

She said: “I’ll bring up your dejeuner at half past twelve if that suits.”

I said: “How am I to know it has not been treated with something which would not be good for me?”

“I’ve had no orders,” she said seriously.

I wanted to laughin a rather hysterical way, I knew, so I suppressed it.

She brought in the food. It was a delicious soup with meat and salad and fruit.

Oddly enough, I could eat it, and in due course she came to collect the tray.

“I should have a little rest,” she said.

“You need it … to sleep off what we had to give you. You’ll be tired still.”

It’s mad, I thought. Am I really in this incongruous position? “

I obeyed her though and lay on the bed. I did sleep long and deep; and when I awoke my first thought was: He will come again. Of course he will come again. Otherwise, why should they hold me here.

At dusk it was the woman who came. She brought more water for me to wash. I did so. I heard her in the dining-room and when I went to see what she was doing-for she seemed a long time1 found her setting the table for two. There was a silver candelabrum in the centre.

I thought: Then I am expected to sup with him as though all was well between us.

I would never do that. I would refuse to sit down with him.

I went back to the bedroom and stood by the barred window. I tried to shake the bars, but they were firmly embedded in the stone. I wondered then how many had stood at that window in desperation. I wondered what tortures had been inflicted on them in this place.

Who would have believed this could happen in these days? How easily people slipped back into savagery. That man did not have to slip back.

He had never been anything else but a savage.

There was a movement behind me and he was there, smiling at me.

That reminded me afresh and I felt the bitter humiliation creeping over me. I wished that I could have remembered, and then I was glad that I had not. There had been moments of consciousness and later when I had been coming out of my drowsiness he had taken me . almost casually.

;

I hated him. How I hated him! My father used to say, “Envy is a negative emotion. It hurts the one who feels it more than the one against whom it is directed.” So with hatred.

Think constructively, I told myself. How am I going to get out of this place? I must make a plan.

I went into the toilet room to look at myself in my robe and sandals.

I had been transformed. I had never worn anything like this before. I looked almost beautiful with my hair hanging loose and the green and gold of the furred robe did something to my eyes. They looked bigger and brighter. I am different, I thought. He has made me different.

There was a little table in the room I called the dining room. It was by the window and on it were several pencils with a sketching-pad.

He had put that there for me, I thought.

I went to it and savagely drew his face. I sketched in that part of Notre Dame where I had seen the most grotesque of all the gargoyles the one which leans on the parapet by the door at the top of the steps and seems to be gazing malevolently towards the Invalides.

I went on sketching. It was wonderful how it soothed me.

The woman came back and cleaned the place; she made the bed and removed the ashes from the fireplace, laying another.

I wanted to scream out because it all seemed so normal. It was as though I were a visitor in some friend’s house.

She said: “I’ll bring up your dejeuner at half past twelve if that suits.”

I said: “How am I to know it has not been treated with something which would not be good for me?”

“I’ve had no orders,” she said seriously.

I wanted to laugh in a rather hysterical way, I knew, so I suppressed it.

She brought in the food. It was a delicious soup with meat and salad and fruit.

Oddly enough, I could eat it, and in due course she came to collect the tray.

“I should have a little rest,” she said.

“You need it … to sleep off what we had to give you. You’ll be tired still.”

It’s mad, I thought. Am I really in this incongruous position? “

I obeyed her though and lay on the bed. I did sleep long and deep; and when I awoke my first thought was: He will come again. Of course he will come again. Otherwise, why should they hold me here.

At dusk it was the woman who came. She brought more water for me to wash. I did so. I heard her in the dining-room and when I went to see what she was doing-for she seemed a long time-I found her setting the table for two. There was a silver candelabrum in the centre.

I thought: Then I am expected to sup with him as though all was well between us.

I would never do that. I would refuse to sit down with him.

I went back to the bedroom and stood by the barred window. I tried to shake the bars, but they were firmly embedded in the stone. I wondered then how many had stood at that window in desperation. I wondered what tortures had been inflicted on them in this place.

Who would have believed this could happen in these days? How easily people slipped back into savagery. That man did not have to slip back.

He had never been anything else but a savage.

There was a movement behind me and he was there, smiling at me.

That reminded me afresh and I felt the bitter humiliation creeping over me. I wished that I could have remembered, and then I was glad that I had not. There had been moments of consciousness and later when I had been coming out of my drowsiness he had taken me . almost casually.

I hated him. How I hated him! My father used to say, “Envy is a negative emotion. It hurts the one who feels it more than the one against whom it is directed.” So with hatred.

Think constructively, I told myself. How am I going to get out of this place? I must make a plan.

I went into the toilet room to look at myself in my robe and sandals.

I had been transformed. I had never worn anything like this before. I looked almost beautiful with my hair hanging loose and the green and gold of the furred robe did something to my eyes. They looked bigger and brighter. I am different, I thought. He has made me different.

There was a little table in the room I called the dining room. It was by the window and on it were several pencils with a sketching-pad.

He had put that there for me, I thought.

I went to it and savagely drew his face. I sketched in that part of Notre Dame where I had seen the most grotesque of all the gargoyles -the one which leans on the parapet by the door at the top of the steps and seems to be gazing malevolently towards the Invalides.

I went on sketching. It was wonderful how it soothed me.

The woman came back and cleaned the place; she made the bed and removed the ashes from the fireplace, laying another.

I wanted to scream out because it all seemed so normal. It was as though I were a visitor in some friend’s house.

She said: “I’ll bring up your dejeuner at half past twelve if that suits.”

I said: “How am I to know it has not been treated with something which would not be good for me?”

“I’ve had no orders,” she said seriously.

I wanted to laugh in a rather hysterical way, I knew, so I suppressed it.

She brought in the food. It was a delicious soup with meat and salad and fruit.

Oddly enough, I could eat it, and in due course she came to collect the tray.

“I should have a little rest,” she said.

“You need it … to sleep off what we had to give you. You’ll be tired still.”

It’s mad, I thought. Am I really in this incongruous position? “

I obeyed her though and lay on the bed. I did sleep long and deep; and when I awoke my first thought was: He will come again. Of course he will come again. Otherwise, why should they hold me here.

At dusk it was the woman who came. She brought more water for me to wash. I did so. I heard her in the dining-room and when I went to see what she was doing-for she seemed a long time-I found her setting the table for two. There was a silver candelabrum in the centre.

I thought: Then I am expected to sup with him as though all was well between us.

I would never do that. I would refuse to sit down with him.

I went back to the bedroom and stood by the barred window. I tried to shake the bars, but they were firmly embedded in the stone. I wondered then how many had stood at that window in desperation. I wondered what tortures had been inflicted on them in this place.

Who would have believed this could happen in these days? How easily people slipped back into savagery. That man did not have to slip back.

He had never been anything else but a savage.

There was a movement behind me and he was there, smiling at me.

He was dressed in a robe not unlike my own. It was deep blue and, like mine, the sleeves were edged with fur, as was the hem.

“You could never break those,” he said.

“They were made to withstand any onslaught.” He came towards me. I turned sharply away, but he caught me firmly and tried to kiss me. For a second or so I eluded him, then he released me but caught me again, taking my face in his two hands, finding my mouth and holding me in a hideous embrace.

Oh God, help me, I thought, it’s beginning again.

He released me, smiling.

“I trust the day has not been too monotonous without me,” he said.

“Any day would be better for not having you in it,” I retorted.