The adulteress

"Jean-Louis," I cried running to him, "what are you doing?"

"Oh ... I have awakened you. I tried to be so quiet."

"I hear every movement."

"It is selfish of me."

"I want to hear," I cried. "I want to be with you if you need me. What is it? Is it the pain?"

He shook his head.

"It's ... the uselessness," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? I lie in bed ... or sit in this chair and think: What use am I? They'd be better off without me."

"Don't dare say such a thing," I cried.

"Isn't it true? I am a constant anxiety to you. You admit you cannot sleep deeply. You are with me all the time ... I am useless in every way."

"Jean-Louis," I said, "it hurts me when you talk like that."

I knelt beside him and buried my face in his dressing gown. I couldn't stop thinking of how I had deceived him.

I cried out: "I want to look after you. Don't you understand? That is my life. It's what I want."

"Oh, Zipporah, Zipporah," he murmured.

"Please understand, Jean-Louis."

"I would always understand," he said. "No matter what ... I would always understand."

What did he mean? Had he some second sight? Did he know of that passionate love between me and Gerard? Could he possibly suspect that Lottie was not his child? I felt a sudden urge to open my heart to him, to tell him what had happened.

I stopped myself just in time. Suppose he had no suspicion? What would the discovery do to him in his condition?

He said: "I have seen the pain in your eyes ... when I have an attack. It hurts me, Zipporah ... more than the pain of my body."

"Oh, dearest, of course I suffer. I wish that I could take over some of the pain. I wish that we could share that together."

"Bless you, my darling," he said. "You have given me everything ... you and your mother. In the past I often thought of what might have happened to me if she had not kept me. My own mother did not want me. I wanted to stay."

"Yes, I remember hearing how you refused to get up in the morning and would not let your nanny out of your sight."

"I came to look on you as my charge ... and it's been like that ever since. It's been a happy time together, hasn't it, Zipporah?"

"Yes," I said. "Oh yes."

"Thank you. Thank you. I want you to have happy memories. That's why I am afraid."

"What are you afraid of?"

"That there might be unhappy ones if this goes on. I have sometimes thought ... suppose I doubled the dose ... trebled it ... What would it be like? Sleep! Blessed sleep! When I have one dose you can't imagine the relief. It makes me sleep, doesn't it? Sometimes I feel that I would like to sleep and sleep ... and never wake up to pain."

"Oh, Jean-Louis, you must not talk like that. It's as though you want to leave us."

He stroked my hair very tenderly. "Only because I cannot bear to see you suffer, my dearest one."

"And do you think I should not if you ... went into that deep, deep sleep?"

"For a while. Then you could be happy again."

I shook my head.

"Oh yes," he said. "Oh yes."

"I will not listen to such talk."

"You make me feel ... wanted," he said.

"How could you ever feel otherwise?"

"Because I am ungrateful. I am surrounded by loving care ... and why should that be given to mel I am useless ... whichever way you look, Zipporah ... I am useless."

"Please stop such talk immediately. I will not have it. If you can get the better of this wretched pain you can enjoy so much ... all the worthwhile things. And the longer we can keep the pain at bay the more chance you have of strengthening yourself. Isn't that what Dr. Forster says?"

"You're right, Zipporah. But if it should ever be that it is hopeless ... and there is nothing left to me but pain ... well, who would blame me ... ? Zipporah, would you help me, if the pain gets too bad?"

"Oh, please don't talk of such things."

"I think of them. Escape is in that bottle. ... If it became unbearable ... a little help ..."

"Let me help you to bed. Let me lie beside you and hold your hand. Let me try to make you understand all you mean to me."

I stayed with him for the rest of the night lying beside him, holding his hand until he fell into a peaceful sleep.

There was a letter from my mother. We corresponded regularly for she was eager to hear of Jean-Louis's condition.

"I know that you cannot come to us and leave Jean-Louis," she wrote, "and if we come to you that disturbs the household, but why should not Lottie visit us? That nice sensible Miss Carter could come with her. We do so long to see her."

When Lottie heard she was eager to go. Dear child, I think she was beginning to be affected by Jean-Louis's illness. I thought it would be a good idea for her to get away for a while.

So she left at the end of June.

I watched her leave in the company of Miss Carter and six grooms and I gave them instructions that they were to send the grooms back the day after they arrived so that I should know they had reached their destination safely.

Then I went back to Jean-Louis.

He was lying in bed. He smiled when he saw me.

"I'm glad she's gone," he said.