Act of Passion by Georges Simenon

Author:Georges Simenon [Simenon, Georges]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: nepalifiction, TPB
Publisher: NYRB Classics
Published: 2010-09-10T18:15:00+00:00

At the trial, what I was most severely blamed for was having brought a woman, having brought my mistress into our home. I think in their eyes that was my greatest crime and that they would even, at a pinch, have forgiven my having committed murder. But bringing Martine face to face with Armande, that made them so indignant that they were at a loss to qualify my conduct.

What would you have done, your Honour? Could I have gone away then and there? Would that have seemed more normal? Just like that, the very first day, without giving it a thought?

Did I even know where we were headed? There was only one thing I knew, just one, and that was that I could not live without her and that I felt a physical pain, as violent as that of my most afflicted patients, the moment she was not near me, the moment I no longer saw her, no longer heard her.

It was suddenly a total vacuum.

Is this so very extraordinary? Am I the only man to have been caught in this vortex?

Am I the first man to have hated as I hated anyone who might approach her in my absence?

One might have thought so to hear those gentlemen of the law, who sometimes looked at me with indignation, sometimes with pity. More often with indignation.

Note that when I saw her in the light of my office, I was almost disillusioned. She had again the brittle look of the girl of the previous day, the look she had had before. Perhaps because she was nervous, ill at ease, she affected her old assurance of a habitué of smart bars.

I sought some trace of what had happened to us and found none.

No matter. Even that way, I was not going to let her go. I would not be free for another hour at least. I could have asked her to come back later. But I didn't want her to go away from the house. I didn't even want to leave her alone in my house. Someone must guard her.

'Listen ... you are going to lunch here at the house ... Yes, you are ... No need to mention that we met yesterday, for Armande is naturally suspicious and my mother even more so ... For both of them, you came to me this morning with a letter of introduction from Dr Artari of Paris, whom I know slightly and whom my wife does not know ...'

She was not convinced, but she felt that it was not the moment to cross me.

'You can talk about Boquet ... that would even be wiser ... But you should imply that you have been working for a doctor - Dr Artari, for instance .. .'

I was in such a hurry to arrange all this that my hand was already on the knob of the door leading to the house.

'My name is Englebert,' she said, 'Martine Englebert ... I am Belgian - from Liège ...'

She smiled. It

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