in flagrante. She must have
tried the countess’s clothes on when the count wasn’t there. She was still more beautiful. But now, instead of the proud expression of someone prepared to avenge herself on the world,
which I’d had a glimpse of and which had excited me so much in what was left of the count’s property, her eyes were lowered, and she had a submissive, fearful attitude, like a slave.
She said nothing. Not even when I spoke to her, welcoming her and asking if she’d had a good journey. Of course that wasn’t the way I wanted to receive her. But I preferred to explain
nothing in front of the count and the baroness. The whole situation had become very inconvenient and embarrassing. All I wanted to do was take Martine into a corner, explain the misunderstanding
and kiss her little breasts. I had to deflower her one way or another, before they did it, so that she’d never forget me. But when it wasn’t the count that wouldn’t leave me alone
with her, it was the baroness. The wine was already on the table, next to the aniseed pastilles, but she didn’t touch a drop. I asked if she wasn’t thirsty. She didn’t answer. It
was too late. The baroness offered us the pastilles. And the last thing I can remember is eating them.