Chapter 37

           Someonehadknockedonthedoor.Iwasstaringatawall.Iwasinbed,Iwaswearingpajamas,myclotheswerefoldedonthechair.Itwasdaylight,veryearly,thefirstthinsunlightonthetopsofthepinesoutside.Ilookedatmywatch.Justbeforesixo’clock.Isatontheedgeofthebed.Ihadablackplungeofshame,ofhumiliation;ofhavingbeennakedinfrontofConchis,ofhavingbeeninhispower;evenworse,otherscouldhaveseen.Lily.IsawmyselflyingthereandallofthemsittingandgrinningwhileConchisaskedmequestionsandIgavenakedanswers.ButLilyhemustalsohypnotizeher;thiswaswhyshecouldnotlie.SvengaliandTrilby.Thenthemysticalexperienceitself,stillsovivid,asclearasalearntlesson,asthedetailsofadriveinnewcountry,hitme.Isawhowithadbeendone.Therewouldhavebeensomedrug,somehallucinogenintheraki.Hehadsuggestedthesethings,thesestagesofknowledge,hehadinducedthemasIlaythere.TherichnessofwhatIremembered;thepotentialembarrassmentofwhatIcouldnot;thegoodofitandtheevilofit;thesetwothingsmademesitforminuteswithmyheadinmyhands,tornbetweenresentmentandgratitude.Iwentandwashed,staredatmyselfinthemirror,wentdowntothecoffeethesilentMariahadwaitingforme.IknewConchiswouldnotappear,Mariawouldsaynothing.Nothingwastobeexplained,everythingwasplannedtokeepmeinsuspenseuntilIcameagain.

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