'I know. You looked terrified. And that, too, kept me from talking,' Lewis said. Bitterly, he added, 'How relieved you were when you knew I'd do everything you wanted! Nothing else mattered to you.'

I bit my lip; this time, at any cost, I had to keep myself from crying. And yet, what was happening to me was horrible. The flames, the rugs, the rain against the windows, Lewis in his white bathrobe - all those memories were false. I saw myself crying on his shoulder; we were united forever. But I was united alone. He was right: I should have tried to find out what was going on inside his head instead of contenting myself with words I forced out of him. I had been cowardly, selfish and cowardly. And I was being well punished for it. I gathered together all my courage; now, I could no longer escape.