“Ah, if you only knew the power of the senses! How they keep you on the rack for whole nights, with burning skin and beating heart, your mind tortured by maddening visions! You see, people of inflexible principles are simply cold natures desperately jealous of others, without knowing it. Listen to this story:
“A woman whom I shall call Madame Hélène had a sensual temperament, even when she was a little girl, for her senses were awakened as soon as she was learning to talk. You will argue that her case was pathological. Why? Is it not even more arguable that you are weaklings? When she was twelve years old I was consulted, and I discovered that she was already a woman and constantly torn by sexual desire. Her very appearance showed this. She had thick, pouting lips, as ripe as full-blown flowers, a powerful neck, warm skin, a large nose with rather wide, sensitive nostrils, and great blue eyes whose glance fired the senses of men. Who could calm the blood of this ardent animal? She spent her nights weeping for no discernible reason. She was suffering agonies for want of a man. Finally, when she was fifteen her parents married her. Two years later her husband died of consumption. She had exhausted him. The same fate overtook her second husband eighteen months after. The third held out for four years, and then left her. It was high time.
“When she was left alone she tried to remain virtuous. She shared all your prejudices. One day, however, she sent for me, as she had had nervous attacks which alarmed her. I saw at once that her widowhood was going to kill her, and I told her so. She was a respectable woman, and in spite of the tortures she suffered, she would not take my advice and find a lover. The countryside said she was mad. She used to go out at night and go off on wild excursions to tire out her rebellious body. Then she would fall into fainting fits followed by horrible cramps. She lived alone in her château, near the home of her mother and relatives. I used to go to see her from time to time, at a loss to know what to do against the obstinate will of nature and her own will.
“One evening, about eight o’clock, she called at my house just as I was finishing dinner. No sooner were we alone than she said:
“ ‘I am lost. I am pregnant!’
“I started in my chair.
“ ‘What!’
“ ‘I am pregnant.’
“ ‘You?’
“ ‘Yes, I.’
“Then suddenly, looking me straight in the face, she said in agitated tones:
“ ‘Pregnant by my gardener, Doctor. I felt rather faint while walking in the park. The man, seeing me fall, ran up and caught me in his arms to carry me in. What did I do? I cannot remember. Did I embrace and kiss him? Perhaps. You know my shameful affliction. To make a long story short, he had me. I am guilty, because I gave myself to him again the next day, and on other occasions afterwards. It was useless, I could no longer hold out …’
“She stifled a sob, and continued defiantly:
“ ‘I paid him, for I preferred that to the lover whom you advised me to take. He has made me pregnant. I will confess to you without reserve or hesitation. I tried to procure an abortion. I took boiling hot baths. I rode horses that were not properly broken in. I did gymnastic exercises. I took drugs, absinthe, saffron, and others, but I did not succeed. You know my father, my brothers; I am lost. My sister is married to a respectable man. My disgrace will reflect upon them. Then, think of all our friends, our neighbours, our good name … my mother …’
“She began to sob. I took her hands in mine and began to question her. Then I advised her to go off on a long journey and have her child away from home. She said: ‘Yes … Yes … Yes … all right …’ without listening to what I was saying. Then she left.
“I went to see her several times. She was going mad. The idea of this child growing in her womb, of this living shame, had penetrated her brain like a sharp arrow. She thought of it incessantly, and was afraid to go out in the daytime, or see anybody, lest her abominable secret should be discovered. Every night she would undress in front of her wardrobe mirror and examine her misshapen abdomen; then she would throw herself on the ground, stifling her cries by thrusting a towel into her mouth. Twenty times in the night she got out of bed, lit her candle and returned to that large mirror, which showed her the reflection of her deformed naked body. In a frenzy she would strike her belly with her fists, trying to kill the life which threatened hers. The struggle between the two was terrible, but the child did not die. It moved constantly as though it were defending itself. She rolled on the floor in an effort to crush it, and tried to sleep with a weight on her
