Boredom - Alberto Moravia [111]
“Besides holding your hand, did Luciani fondle you?”
“Yes, he stroked my face and kissed me on the neck.”
“You can’t remember the conversation, but you can remember the kisses.”
“I remember them because I didn’t want him to do it.”
“Did you quarrel?”
“No, but he always wants me to do things I don’t want to do.”
“What, for instance?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you; if I tell you you’ll be angry.”
“No, I won’t be angry. Tell me.”
“Well, he wanted me to put my hand...you know where. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand. And you—what did you do?”
“I did it for a little, but I couldn’t eat with only one hand and so I stopped. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. While you were doing that, did it give you pleasure?”
“It gave me pleasure because it gave him pleasure.”
“Supposing I asked you to do the same thing to me, would it give you pleasure to give me pleasure?”
“I think it would. There are lots of things one can do with pleasure because one knows they give pleasure to someone else.”
“Someone else? To anybody, then?”
“No, I said someone else, meaning Luciani or you.”
“Yes, I understand. And afterward what happened?”
“We ate and drank; in a restaurant one eats and drinks, doesn’t one?”
“What did you eat?”
“I don’t remember, I never look at what I’m eating. The usual things.”
“Anything else?”
“Luciani called to the band and they sang us some Neapolitan songs.”
“Which ones?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Do you like Neapolitan songs?”
“I think I do.”
“But really now, do you like them or do you not?”
“Oh well, it depends. In a restaurant, yes. But if they started singing them while I was asleep—certainly not.”
“After that, what did you do?”
“What did we do? Nothing else.”
“I bet Luciani bought you a rose with its stalk wrapped in silver paper, from one of those girls who go around selling them in restaurants?”
“Yes, that’s true; how did you know?”
“There are lots of things I know. I know also that you put it to your nose to smell it, didn’t you?”
“That’s the thing to do when you’re given a flower, isn’t it?”
“Were you pleased that Luciani gave you a rose?”
“Yes.”
“And after dinner where did you go?”
“To the pictures.”
“What was the name of the film you saw?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who were the actors in it?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know their names.”
“But anyhow, what happened in the film?”
“I think it was an American film—you know, one of those with people on horseback, shooting.”
“A Western. Did you hold hands in the theater?”
“Yes.”
“Did you kiss?”
“Yes.”
“Did you make love?”
“Yes.”
“How? You made love in the theater?”
“We were in seats at the back, behind a pillar, and the place was half empty.”
“But how did you manage to make love?”
“I got onto his knee.”
“And did you like it?”
“No, I was too frightened. Besides, I don’t like doing things in public places.”
“Why did you do it, then?”
“Because I wanted to.”
“Then you did like it?”
“No, I wanted to, but I didn’t like it.”
“And what else did you do during the evening?”
“We went to a night club.”
“Which one?”
“I don’t know what it’s called. Behind Via Veneto.”
“What was it like?”
“It was very crowded.”
“No, I mean what was the room like, how was it furnished and decorated?”
“I didn’t look at it.”
“Did you dance?”
“Yes.”
“Much?”
“Yes.”
“While you were dancing, did you press close against him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because we were doing dances in which you have to keep apart.”
“What more did you do?”
“Nothing more. About three o’clock he took me home.”
“Has he a car?”
“He had one but he sold it.”
“He hasn’t much money, then?”
“Not at present, because he’s out of a job.”
“Do you give him money, sometimes?”
“Yes, sometimes I do.”
“My money?”
“Yes, the money you give me.”
“And so the money I give you—you never spend it on yourself?”
“Yes, I buy a few things. But I spend it mostly with him.”
“Yesterday evening, did he pay or did you?”
“We each did part of it; he paid for the pictures, I paid the rest.”
“In fact you paid almost the whole thing.”
“He’s paid a good deal on other occasions.”
“How did you give him the money?