The Beast Within - Emile Zola [200]
Jacques, aroused by her caresses and his furious desire to possess her, having no weapon, stretched out his hands to strangle her, when Séverine, from force of habit, turned and put out the lamp. He took her in his arms and carried her to the bed. It was one of their most passionate nights of love ... a night like no other ... the only time they had ever been truly as one, lost in each other. Their pleasure left them exhausted and so drained of strength that they lost all feeling in their bodies. They lay tight in each other’s arms, but they did not sleep. As on the night Séverine had confessed her secret to him in Madame Victoire’s room in Paris, Jacques listened without speaking as she whispered softly into his ear. Perhaps that night, before putting out the lamp, she had sensed death brush past her. Until that day, she had lain in her lover’s arms quite happily, oblivious to the ever-present threat of being murdered. But a little shiver of death had run through her; a fear she could not explain made her press herself against him, seeking protection. As she lay beside him, breathing gently, it was as if she were surrendering her soul to him.
‘Oh, my darling, if only you had been able to do it, how happy we would have been in America! I’m not asking you again to do something you cannot do. But it was such a beautiful dream! Just a moment ago I felt frightened. I don’t know why. I feel as if something is threatening me. It’s childish, I know. I keep looking behind me, as if there were someone there, about to strike me down... You’re the only one who can look after me, darling. My happiness depends on you. You are my only reason for living.’
Without answering, he held her closer, expressing in his embrace what he could not say in words — all his unspoken feelings, his genuine desire to be good to her, the deep love she had always inspired in him. Yet earlier that evening he had wanted to kill her. If she had not turned to put out the light, he would certainly have strangled her. He would never be cured. His attacks were dictated by circumstance; he would never know or even begin to understand what caused them. Why had it happened that evening, when he had discovered how faithful she was to him, how open and trusting? Was it that the more she loved him, the more he sought to imprison her in the dark confines of his male egoism, even if it meant destroying her? He wanted to possess her, dead, like a handful of dust!
‘Darling, tell me, why am I frightened? Am I in danger?’
‘No, no, don’t worry; you’re in no danger.’
‘Sometimes I start shaking all over. All the time there’s something lurking behind me. I can’t see it, but I know it’s there ... Why am I frightened?’
‘There, there, don’t be frightened ... I love you and I’ll never let anyone hurt you ... See! How good it is when we’re together like this!’
There was a long, blissful silence.
‘Oh, my darling,’ she continued in a soft, gentle whisper, ‘if only there could be night after night like this, night after night when we were together, the two of us, as one ... We could sell this house and take the money and sail away to America. We could meet up with your friend; he’s still waiting for you ... Not a day goes by when I don’t go to bed dreaming of our life over there ... Every night would be like tonight. You would make love to me, and I would be yours; we would fall