She would soon be here now. Jean imagined Irina, slowly undressing in front of him, revealing... All of a sudden, his heart was knotted with pain: quickly, my medication, quickly! Had he at least brought it with him? Bent in two, panting, he rummaged in his suitcase... Not there! Where had his wife put them? ... Yes, he remembered now, his pills were in his suit, on the bed! While he dragged himself towards the crumpled clothes, someone knocked at the door. He didn’t open. Irina was in front of him. She looked at him with an indescribable expression. “Is this what you’re looking for, oh love of my life?” she laughed. Jean looked up. His medication! How had she been able to... She must have taken it from his pocket while they’d been speaking. The writer winced with pain, it was a serious attack. Irina was a couple of steps away, her poise a challenge. She took off her long blue dress, she was naked.