And later, when I understand everything better, it seems to me that I shall cherish that recollection, — that I shall love to picture you, once more, so crazy, so fantastically crazy on the occasion of our very first moment of solitude."
"Yes, later. But for the time being I should prefer that you think of it no more."
"Oh! no. On the contrary, I want to let my mind dwell on it, in order the better to feel that I love you."
She reflected and then, as though speaking to herself, continued:
"…in order the better to feel that I love you ever so much more, already, than before our arrival here."
Her final words were uttered in a low voice, as though her instinct gave consent, but with the disapprobation of her mind. However, this very conflict made her confession more precious to me. In the midst of the trial I had imposed on myself, so that my wife, with her whole soul and flesh, would accept the fleshly rites, it seemed to me that already her body was conniving with my feelings. I had promised not to take advantage of her confession; but, indifferent to this promise, and as though it were a being foreign to myself, my sex began to stiffen at the thought of the possibility of immediate possession. Was there not the assurance of pardon in advance? — had it not been even suggested?
Momentarily I closed my eyes, so as to relish to the full the image evoked by my desire, — the intimate contact of my imprisoned flesh within her conquered garden.
When, again, I looked in her direction, Therese smiled at me, — a most tender smile. However, as though she had suspected my mental treason, her eyes became veiled with a certain sadness. Then, from the bottom of my heart there welled a silent feeling of humility, a mute protest of loyalty. I had said "no" to my intractable desire, and I was sure of being able to dominate it, because I realized that Therese was so weak, so ready for all forms of indulgence. It was no longer against myself alone, it was against our joint instincts-already accomplices-I had now to struggle. But, stronger through all the hope springing through that complicity, I felt sure of being able to bridle their blind impatience, — until the time came when, in the full consciousness of her desire, my wife would give herself to me voluntarily.
Therese's confession-dispelling the restraint which weighed upon us-now inspired a paean of victory in my heart. Joy at regaining confidence in myself, — joy at the thought of a future which had again become luminous! Therese read that joy in my eyes. Seizing one of the crimson carnations and kissing it, she exclaimed "Ready!" and cast the bloom in my face. Our dinner concluded amidst an atmosphere of gaiety which, but a short time before, had certainly never been my hope.
With a thousand burlesque ceremonies, Therese led me to an armchair and made me sit down, while she occupied herself with clearing away. All she had to do, however, was to place the remains of our little dinner in a turning-box (like that in convents), whence they could be removed from the outside, without disturbing our solitude. For the master of the house had seen to all intimate refinements; and we might have wandered about stark naked from cellar to garret without fear of any indiscreet surprise.
Momentarily I imagined myself in that condition, without, however, the slightest libidinous idea: above all I evoked the well-being of a state of nudity on such an exceedingly hot evening as that was. But I kept that innocent little dream to myself. My wife is not fond of that kind of humour and never will be. After many months of marriage, during which we have practiced every form of voluptuousness and obeyed every suggestion of an unfettered imagination, she would still take offence at a risky joke or vulgar gesture. The passionate priestess of our fleshly delights, and capable of overcoming all sense of shame amidst the intoxication of the senses, she would never, on the other hand, sanction either those sacrilegious pleasantries or needless indecencies which profane love without enriching sensual pleasure.
While clearing the table, Therese resumed her pranks. This time she was no longer the Marchioness of the top of a sweet-meat box but a smart little maid who scamped her household duties in order to join her lover as quickly as possible. Then she tripped towards me and, after claiming a kiss for her mimicry, sat down on my knees. Under the warm pressure of her thighs and owing to the thinness of our clothing, my sex began to swell with desire; and in response to its dull pulsations came the accelerated throbbing of my temples. With my left arm bent, I made a support for Therese, while with my free hand I pressed her legs against me, so as to prevent this hand, against my will, from fondling her breasts, which were so tantalizingly accessible beneath her lowcut dress.
Therese brought her lips to my mouth and kissed me most passionately.
I responded by advancing my tongue. For a moment her lips resisted and even drew back a little; but suddenly they half-opened, in a sort of ardent aspiration, as though they were drinking at an unknown spring.
And while with my tongue I slowly, lightly caressed those offered lips, Therese remained in a state of complete immobility, hardly breathing, and with her voluptuous attention at full stretch. Meanwhile, similar to those ground-swells which suddenly disturb the apparent calmness of the sea, a great shiver ran through her body and set her trembling when, on separating her lips, my caress became more active and persistent. Then, again, Therese surrendered herself, almost in a swoon, as though all the life in her were taking refuge in the acceptation of an unsuspected pleasure.
When, much later, I interrupted this caress, her own tongue, in its turn, advanced, slowly following the outline of my lips, — moistening and penetrating them. And soon, on this arranged double theme, we played a thousand alternated variations. Our lips set traps for us, momentarily refusing the offered tongue, so as to seize it afterwards, imprison it, and rob it of all its saliva. A clock struck the hours; but I was incapable of counting them. However, what did that matter to me?
Time had become, as it were, an inconsistent fog… Then, once more, a tremor passed through my beloved; she opened her eyes and, gently repulsing me, murmured:
"My darling, I can't stand it any longer: your little wife is positively shattered."
To guard her mouth from my caresses, she leaned against my neck, but her tongue continued to bestow light and furtive kisses upon me. On raising her head, she seemed appeased and smiled at me.
"I should have liked to surrender myself to your tenderness eternally; but, really, I believe I should have ended by fainting. It was as though there were a dissociation of my whole body. You cannot know into what a state you threw me."
Alas! I knew that full well. I was well aware of that anguish of instinct, of her instinct more conscious than she was of our desire. But it was still too soon. I remained silent.
"My darling is not annoyed, — is he? He is my all-powerful Lord and I should like-oh! I should like so intensely to be wholly his slave. Yet, in spite of myself…"
Apparently embarrassed by my look, she drew my head nearer to her and rested her cheek against my eyes.
"Yes, despite myself, I remain somewhat timid."
"Have I been clumsy again? Are you annoyed with me?"
"Oh! no. On the contrary, I am deliciously surprised. Even a little astonished that such dizziness-so sweet, so ineffably sweet-can be bought without pain. But I know that, sooner or later, you will hurt me, — that you must hurt me."
"People have been frightening you needlessly, darling."
"I'm not frightened on my own account. When I'm in the state into which you threw me just now, you could indeed do anything you like with me. But I am anxious on account of our love. I fear the moment when the infinitely tender and delicate being you are to-night must appear to me more violent and… how can I express it?"