The Ravishing of Lol Stein by Marguerite Duras Page A

fixedly at Lol: is she going to dismiss her from her life forever or, on the contrary, see her again, be anxious to see her again? Lol is still smiling at her, with a vague, indifferent smile. Is she with me now, behind the bay windows? or somewhere else?
    "I don't remember," she says. "Not about any friendship. I don't remember anything of the kind."
    I have the impression that she realizes that she ought to watch her step, that she is somewhat frightened by what is going to come next. I can see it in her eyes, which are searching for mine. Tatiana still hasn't seen anything. She says—now it's her turn to lie—she ventures:
    "I'm not sure whether I'll be able to see you as often as you would apparently like."
    Lol's response is a veritable supplication:
    "Ah," she says, "you'll see, just wait, Tatiana, you'll get used to me."
    "The problem is, I have lovers," Tatiana says. "My lovers occupy every minute of my free time. Which is the way I want it."
    Lol sits down. Her expression is one of sadness, mixed with discouragement.
    "I didn't realize," she says softly, "I didn't realize you used such words, Tatiana."
    She gets up. She tiptoes away from Tatiana as though she were concerned not to wake some sleeping child close by. Tatiana follows her, feeling a bit contrite because of what she takes to be Lol's increasing depression. They are both by the window, very close to where I am standing.
    "What is your opinion of our friend Jack Hold?"
    Lol turns till she is facing the grounds. Her voice is louder, without expression, incantatory:
    "The best man in the world is dead for me. I have no opinion."
    They fall silent. Their backs are to me, I see them both framed by the curtains of the French doors. Tatiana murmurs:
    "After all these years. I wanted to ask you, Lol, whether ..."
    I fail to catch the rest of Tatiana's sentence because I am now moving toward the doorstep where Lol is standing, her back to the garden. Lol's voice is still clear, resonant. She means to escape the aura of intimate revelation, wants to make her words public.
    "I don't know," she says, "I don't know whether I still think about it."
    She turns around, smiles, says almost without any break from what she has just said:
    "Why, here's Mr. Hold. I thought you were in the billiard room."
    "I was until a moment ago."
    I advance into the light. To Tatiana, it all seems quite natural.
    "You look as though you're cold," she says to me.
    Lol ushers us into the room. She pours me a glass of sherry, which I drink. Tatiana is lost in her thoughts. Is she upset, however slightly, because I happened on the scene too soon? No, she is too deeply absorbed by Lol to be upset. Lol, her hands on her knees, leaning forward in a familiar posture, directs her words to Tatiana:
    "Love," she says, "I remember."
    Tatiana is staring into space.
    "That ball, Lol! oh, that ball!"
    Lol, without shifting position, stares into the same void as Tatiana.
    "What?" she asks. "How do you know?"
    Tatiana has a moment of doubt. Then at last she cries out:
    "But Lol, I was there the whole night, there beside you!"
    Lol evinces no surprise, nor does she even try to remember, it's no use.
    "Ah! So it was you," she says. "I'd forgotten."
    Does Tatiana believe her? She hesitates, darts a sidelong glance at Lol, quivering, her hopes more than confirmed. Then Lol, with a kind of pitiful curiosity, a century-old refugee from her youth, asks:
    "Did I suffer? Tell me, Tatiana, I've never really known."
    Tatiana says:
    "No."
    She slowly shakes her head, for a long time.
    "No. I'm your only witness. I can tell you that you didn't. You were smiling at them. You weren't suffering."
    Lol's fingers dig into her cheeks. Lost in that ball, entrapped, they both are completely oblivious of my presence.
    "I remember," she says, "I must have been smiling."
    I move past them in the room. Neither one says anything.
    I leave. I head for the billiard room, in search of Peter.
    "They're waiting for us."
    "I was looking