The Beast Within - Emile Zola [199]
Jacques believed her. She was right; he could tell she wasn’t lying. But his anxiety was beginning to return. He felt the terrifying curse of his desire stirring within him as he thought of himself alone with her in that isolated house, with the flame of their passion rekindled. He wished he could get away.
‘But there’s someone else as well,’ he exclaimed. ‘There’s Cabuche!’
She turned towards him.
‘Ah! You’ve noticed,’ she said. ‘You’ve noticed that too. Yes, it’s true. There’s Cabuche. What’s the matter with all these men! Cabuche hasn’t said a word to me, but I’ve seen him wringing his hands together when we kiss. When I sit close to you and take your hand, he runs away and cries. He steals my belongings ... gloves, handkerchiefs ... they keep disappearing. He carries them off to his hovel, as trophies ... Surely you don’t imagine I could give myself to an overgrown brute like him; I’d be terrified. Anyway, he hasn’t said a thing ... big chaps like him are sometimes very shy; they might be desperately in love, but they don’t demand a thing. You could leave me alone with him for a month, and he wouldn’t as much as touch me ... any more than he did Louisette; of that I am now quite certain.’
At this reminder of the past their eyes met, and they looked at each other in silence, remembering all that had happened between them — their meeting at the examining magistrate’s office in Rouen, their first magical trip to Paris, their secret lovers’ meetings in Le Havre, and all that had occurred since, both the good and the bad. She drew close to him, so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath.
‘No,’ she said, ‘I couldn’t give myself to Henri, and I certainly couldn’t give myself to Cabuche. I couldn’t give myself to anyone ... And do you know why? I’ll tell you, because now I know, and I know I’m right. It’s because you have taken me ... taken all of me. What other word is there? You have taken me, like something you seize in both hands and carry away and use every minute of the day, a possession. Before you, I hadn’t belonged to anyone. But now I’m yours, and I’ll be yours for ever ... even if you don’t want me to be, and even if I don’t want to be either ... I don’t know how to explain it. It was simply the way we met. Other men frightened me ... disgusted me. But with you it has been wonderful, a blessing from heaven ... Jacques, you are the only one I love. I can never love anyone but you!’
She put out her arms to draw him towards her and was about to lay her head on his shoulder and offer her lips to his. But he took hold of her hands and held her away from him, panic-stricken and terrified, as he felt the old familiar tremor run through his body and the blood pulsing through his brain. He heard the same ringing in his ears, the same pounding and clamouring in his head as when he had his terrible attacks as a youth. For some time already, he had been unable to make love to Séverine in broad daylight or even by the light of a candle for fear that the mere sight of her might drive him mad. But now there was a lamp beside the bed, shining brightly on both of them, and the reason he was shaking and becoming so agitated was no doubt because he had glimpsed the white curve of her breasts, through the unfastened top of her dressing-gown.
Séverine continued to entreat him, with ever-increasing passion.
‘What does it matter if we have no future together? Even if I don’t expect you to change my life and I know that tomorrow will bring us the same problems and torments as before, I don’t care. I want nothing