The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 4Maupassant, Guy de
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The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 4
Maupassant, Guy de
French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
"'What are you doing here?' I said to her in Arabic.
"'I am here because Mohammed told me to come.'
"'Very well, sit down.'
"So she sat down and lowered her eyes, while I examined her attentively.
"She had a strange, regular, delicate, and rather bestial face, but
mysterious as that of a Buddha. Her lips, which were rather thick and
covered with a reddish efflorescence, which I discovered on the rest of
her body as well, indicated a slight admixture of negro blood, although
her hands and arms were of an irreproachable whiteness.
"I hesitated what to do with her, and felt excited, tempted and rather
confused, so in order to gain time and to give myself an opportunity for
reflection, I put other questions to her, about her birth, how she came
into this part of the country, and what her connection with Mohammed was.
But she only replied to those that interested me the least, and it was
impossible for me to find out why she had come, with what intention,
by whose orders, nor what had taken place between her and my servant.
However, just as I was about to say to her: 'Go back to Mohammed's tent,'
she seemed to guess my intention, for getting up suddenly, and raising
her two bare arms, on which the jingling bracelets slipped down to her
shoulders, she crossed her hands behind my neck and drew me towards her
with an irresistible air of suppliant longing.
"Her eyes, which were bright from emotion, from that necessity of
conquering man, which makes the looks of an impure woman as seductive as
those of the feline tribe, allured me, enchained me, deprived me of all
the power of resistance, and filled me with impetuous ardor. It was a
short, sharp struggle of the eyes only, that eternal struggle between
those two human brutes, the male and the female, in which the male is
always beaten.
"Her hands, which had clasped behind my head, drew me irresistibly, with
a gentle, increasing pressure, as if by mechanical force towards her red
lips, on which I suddenly laid mine while, at the same moment, I clasped
her body, that was covered with jingling silver rings, in an ardent
embrace.
"She was as strong, as healthy, and as supple as a wild animal, with all
the motions, the ways, the grace, and even something of the odor of a
gazelle, which made me find a rare, unknown zest in her kisses, which
was as strange to my senses as the taste of tropical fruits.
"Soon--I say soon, although it may have been towards morning--I wished to
send her away, as I thought that she would go in the same way that she
had come; I did not, even, at the moment, ask myself what I should do
with her, or what she would do with me, but as soon as she guessed my
intention, she whispered:
"'What do you expect me to do if you get rid of me now? I shall have to
sleep on the ground in the open air at night. Let me sleep on the carpet,
at the foot of your bed.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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