I couldn’t understand, or maybe I was too afraid to understand. Eventually, he ended up putting the cord around his neck: “Perhaps you’d understand this better if I were a woman... Moreover, you have to take into account moral, intellectual (and thus social) prejudices.”
The door was ajar and opening further onto the truth contained within, onto what might even be called his obsession, but I wanted him to admit it outright, even if I have to provoke him with some subtle game of questions and answers neatly woven together.
“So, I’m the spectator?”
“Yes, you’re watching a play, my play, which I’ve planned right up to the smallest details, including the decor and the costumes...”