"When I heard you speak French with your Romanian friend, I could not resist. I accosted you..."
Time was passing. We were still speaking. An insane idea crossed my mind: Marika could perhaps speak at the poetry festival, I could present her... In a ridiculous moment, I suggested it to her. She nodded "No". Of course, she was right. Another, even more insane, idea seized hold of me: I should bring her back to France where she could finish her studies in peace, but I did not dare suggest it to her.

I rose to leave, suggesting that we meet up the following day, perhaps a little earlier. "No, not tomorrow," she says, "because..." I diverted my eyes. She was already "taken," I thought. "Taken"--what a horrible word, really! I tightened my hand on her. She tightened her grip without saying a word.
"The day after tomorrow, then?"
"Right, then. The day after tomorrow."
I left quickly without looking back. Once outside, I shivered. This feeling did me good. I stretched a little. I was numb. I raised my eyes. The night was beautiful, my first night in the company of Marika... I hastened my step. I was in a hurry to return to the hotel. The streets were deserted. What time could it be? I had no idea: I was both shaken and happy at the same time. "You are completely insane," I said to myself. "You will never change!" As if to prove myself right, a cat meowed sadly, close by. I would have liked to have stroked it, but it remained hidden.