I-330 was at the table. I rushed towards her.
“You? You! I have been.... I saw your room.... I thought you....” But midway I hurt myself upon the sharp, motionless spears of her eyelashes and I stopped. I remembered: she looked at me in the same way before,—in the Integral. It was urgent to tell her everything in
one second and in such a way that she should believe—or she would never....
“Listen, I-330, I must.... I must ... everything! No, no, one moment—let me have a glass of water first.”
My mouth was as dry as though it were lined with blotting paper. I poured a glass of water but I could not.... I put the glass back upon the table, and with both hands firmly grasped the carafe.
Now I noticed that the blue smoke was from a cigarette. She brought the cigarette to her lips and with avidity she drew in and swallowed the smoke as I did water; then she said:
“Don’t. Be silent. Don’t you see it matters little? I came anyway. They are waiting for me below.... Do you want these minutes which are our last...?”
Abruptly she threw the cigarette on the floor and bent backwards over the side of the chair to reach the button in the wall (it was quite difficult to do so), and I remember how the chair swayed slightly, how two of its legs were lifted. Then the curtains fell.
She came close to me and embraced me. Her knees, through her dress, were like a slow, gentle, warm, enveloping and permeating poison....
Suddenly (it happens at times) you plunge into sweet, warm sleep—when all at once, as if something pricks you, you tremble and your eyes are again widely open. So it was now; there on the